The Goblin Queen
by phantom-lass
Summary: Centuries ago in a battle thought of more as legend than fact, a Hobbit - a Took - defeated the Goblin King. Ever since the rule of the Goblin nation has been passed through the Took line - All bow for her majesty, Bilbo the Great Took, Goblin Queen. - Girl Bilbo Fem!Bilbo Baggins.
1. The Journey

Bilbo couldn't stop the small smile from quirking the corner of her lips as she looked up from her cup of tea to meet Gandalf's twinkling eyes. She resisted the urge to roll her own. She wondered if Gandalf was actually expecting her to believe the nonsense he was spouting.

Knocked off the Goblin King's head indeed. They were tough little monsters. It would take two tries with any sword that would be found within the Shire...at the bare minimum. Well, an Elf blade might do the deed in one she supposed...those blades were wickedly keen after all.

It was safe to say that no one would be finding out as long as she was in charge.

"I think you made all of that up," she told the wizard sternly.

"Yes, well, all good tales deserve a little embellishing," he coughed.

A little?

She chuckled at this.

A Took had taken the head of the Goblin King - that was a fact - but she was certain it had not been as...clean as Gandalf was painting it.

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><p>She had signed the contract. Against her better judgement her signature now sat below that of Thorin and Balin on the elaborately worded legal document now sitting in the Royal Counsellor's pocket. They were heading to slay a dragon (if he still lived) and take back their home. Worthy goals...and she would help them win their home if she could but there were bigger things to worry about. Shadows were rising...a darkness was growing and talking of the dragon had brought it back to her. She could no longer turn a blind eye to this.<p>

A line would have to be drawn in the sand.

* * *

><p>They had just shoved her towards the trolls. How dare they! For all they knew she would be troll jelly in two seconds flat.<p>

She stomped towards the three brothers, her anger bubbling within her. She had spent the past weeks travelling with a smelly group of men who had found great joy in making her the butt of a grand number of jokes as they tried to shock her into some sort of feminine reaction and now this.

Well, she would deal with these three and then she would let the company know that she was finished with their behaviour and if the two princes couldn't be trusted to look after the ponies they shouldn't be left alone.

She liked the company as a whole. Really she did. They were nice enough and just being themselves when they tried winding her up but it still made her angry and right now...this...this was the last straw.

"Hoot like a barn owl and a screech owl," she muttered to herself. How in the name of the Shire was she to know what they sounded like?

She drew neared to the trolls and cleared her throat so she would be heard over their arguing.

"What is the meaning of this?" she demanded.

She should have known that the ruined cottage had been given some help along the way. Why couldn't anyone ever do as they were told any more? She left clear instructions to be followed. Surely it wasn't that difficult. The treaties became void for those who passed the boundaries and these three might as well have been at Bag End for all the protection the treaties could give them now.

The three trolls - young for their kind - stopped mid-argument and turned to face her, slack jawed and wide eyed.

She stopped her approach and tapped her bare foot on the leaf and twig covered ground, her arms folded across her chest. She wasn't as impressive as she could be but it would have to do for the time being.

"Well?"

The trolls tripped over themselves as they abandoned the fire and stew pot - she hoped pony or sheep was the only meat bubbling in that pot - and stumbled towards her, each dropping to their knees before her and bowing their heads.

"Mistress,"

"Well...you see...we...well…"

She cleared her throat again, silencing them immediately.

She wasn't truly angry with them she had learned years ago that things were different for them. For all of them. Besides they were just boys really.

"Bert, explain please,"

The cook - the eldest of the three - raised his head and looked at her.

"Well, mistress, you was gone so long. We was bored. So we thought we'd come find you…"

He trailed off and she watched with no little amusement as they all three shifted, trying to hide the fire and the stolen ponies from her sight.

She shook her head but was unable to hide the small smile that came to her lips. They were like children caught slipping cookies from the jar before dinner.

"And the ponies?" she raised an eyebrow.

There was a moment or two of silence while Bert scratched his head as he struggled to organise his thoughts.

"Well we got a bit peckish, Mistress. We was gonna take some home with us, honest. And we tried to be good. We only had one leathery two legger for dinner the other night,"

"Yeah," piped up Tom, the youngest of the three eagerly, "Cos the other's was too quick,"

"Shut up, idiot," hissed William - the roughest of the bunch - hitting his brother over he back of the head.

"Ouch," whined Tom in a high pitched squeal, rubbing at the abused spot at the back of his skull.

Bilbo pinched the top of her nose. So they had been responsible for the farmer. She couldn't blame them. It was in their nature and they were right. She had been gone for some time. But to have eaten the farmer. That was going to take some explaining. At least the rest of his family seemed to have escaped from the hungry threesome.

She sighed. Nothing was ever simple any more.

"Enough," she shouted before the scene could dissolve into a three way scuffle. She had no intention of being in the vicinity of the three brothers when they got into a fight. They had a tendency to stomp around a lot with little care of what was around them. And roll. Bilbo was sturdy but she was not sturdy enough to survive being rolled over by a nearly fully grown mountain troll.

"You will free the ponies and return to the mountain,"

The three stared at her in silence.

"Am I understood?" she prompted.

"Yes," they muttered one by one.

"Very well. There are some hours of darkness left, you will start your journey now,"

...To Be Continued...

* * *

><p><strong>This is an idea that I have been planning out for a wee while now and now that NaNoWriMo is here I am using it as an excuse to get it all scribbled down.<strong>

**Maybe random and weird but I needed to get it out my head and onto the computer screen.**

**Please let me know what you think :)**


	2. The Present

Bilbo stared at the brothers her expression as stern as she could manage it. She had always had a soft spot for these three but she needed them back where they belonged as quickly as possible before there were any more peckish moments or they were discovered by some idiot who decided he wanted a story to tell about the slaying of three trolls.

All three of them stood carefully when Tom began to tug on the deer hide apron Bert wore with the insistent of a faunt in search of sweets.

"But Bert, we has a present remember. You promised," the younger whimpered, his voice thick with disappointment before he turned to face her, a beaming smile on his face, his eyes rolling in all directions in his excitement and his tongue peaking out of the corner of his grey-green mouth.

"We has a present for you, we's found it," he announced proudly, his chest puffed out with all the pompous appearance of a promenading peacock .

"I wanted to tell her," William shouted at his brother, heading towards him with an upraised hand, ready to plant another slap on Tom's skull.

"Oy, enough o' that," growled Bert and she scuttled back as he grabbed each of them by the back of the head and slammed them together with enough force to rattle eyes in sockets.

Moans of pain filled the night as they grabbed at their heads.

"No way to go behaving in front of the Mistress," Bert told them, his head held high and his nose tipped up.

"Now, _I'm_ going to fetch the present," Bert stamped off followed by his brothers who were shouting that it was their turn to give her a present.

Bilbo glanced around in a panic but there was no sight of the Dwarves rushing in with weapons drawn. Fili and Kili must have decided to not rush to their uncle for aid. That meant they were probably still huddled behind a bush somewhere.

A minute or so later the three brothers appeared again, shoving at each other and uprooting more than one young tree as they collided with the trunks.

It seemed that William was the one to win the scuffle by the time they reached her as he was the one bearing the long parcel wrapped in some faded material and covered in dry leaves and earth.

Avoiding looked at her and with the most bashful expression she had ever seen upon his face he crouched down and held out the present.

"We's found this for you," he mumbled.

She smiled and took the present.

They were all a walking contradiction. They went and ate some poor farmer one day but then they did something lovely like this now. What could she do with them?

Bilbo unwrapped the fabric - it must have been gorgeous in its days but countless years of being abused by the elements had faded the colour and thinned it until she could see though it in places - and she was rendered speechless by the sight of the Hobbit sized sword in her hands.

She dropped the fabric to the floor and drew the blade from it sheath. It was a gorgeous piece of craftsmanship. The metal shone bright and silver in the firelight, looking as though it had just come from the forge. She gave it an experimental wave.

_Good balance._

Despite what Thorin and the company thought she did have enough knowledge of weapons to protect herself if the need arose. She just didn't like to flaunt the fact as it was hardly the sort of thing a Hobbit should be familiar with.

Her attention was drawn back to the three trolls in front of her as they began to shift nervously and Bert pushed forward and elbowed William out of the way.

"There's other shinies in the cave if you don't like it," he told her quickly, taking her silence as a bad thing and wringing his hands in worry.

"It is a lovely present, Bert," she smiled, "William, Tom thank you,"

They all stood a little straighter at her thanks, their faces beaming with pride.

"Now, head off home. I will not be far behind you,"

They lumbered off into the darkness and she had made quick work attaching her present to her belt and freeing the ponies from the small pen they had been placed in.

Bilbo nearly jumped out of her skin when Fili and Kili broke through undergrowth behind her at a dead run with a battle cry on their lips and their weapons held high, the rest of the company close behind and following their example to the letter.

She was able to make out their shocked expressions in the flickering firelight as they gazed around expecting to see three trolls ripping her to shreds or something equally gruesome she had no doubt.

Bilbo stood in equal shock for a moment or so before mumbling something ridiculous about the trolls lacking discipline. She pushed past them in her rush to get back towards the camp, dragging the ponies by the reins behind her.

Upon reaching the camp - having deposited the ponies with the other animals - she went to the stew pot found a clean bowl and spoon and helped herself to what was left of the evening meal.

She chewed thoughtfully.

It was good stick-to-your-ribs-and-keep-you-full-till-morning stew. If you weren't a Hobbit that is. And she knew her stomach would be rumbling by sun-up at the latest. The cut in her daily food intake was proving to be harder to grow used too than she had anticipated.

The Dwarves drifted back to the camp and once all of them were back - the ponies had been left to their own devices for the time being it seemed - they began to question her on just how she had done it.

She took her time answering. Trying to think through her words so she wouldn't stumble over them as soon as she opened her mouth.

"I told them to go home," she finally answered after another mouthful of stew - it really was very good.

The sound of several of the Dwarves choking on their pipe smoke erupted around her.

"To 'go home'?" wheezed Dori.

"Yes, I told them to get off home and they did," she told them truthfully, her face straight.

If they didn't believe the truth it was hardly her fault.

She finished up her supper while the Dwarves argued over her method of dealing with the trolls and then she began to chew on her lip nervously as she began to fret over the trolls and their return journey, staring into the dying fire.

They had made it all of this way without her knowledge and in one piece, just because she knew about it now it would not effect their return journey in anyway. So, she reasoned with herself, her worrying about it would make no difference.

Bilbo didn't even know why she was trying not to worry. It wasn't working.

Thankfully Bofur, happy cheerful Bofur who was always ready with some little comment of commendation to balance Thorin's constant criticisms was the one to drag her from her thoughts as he sat down on the log beside her, laughing so hard he nearly toppled backwards.

"Bilbo Baggins," he crowed, "The Troll Tamer,"

She looked away from the fire and smiled at him, welcoming the distraction.

She liked Bofur.

***To Be Continued***

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><p><strong>Aww don't you just love trolls! You know...when they're not cooking Dwarves rotisserie style ;)<strong>


	3. Rivendell

She woke with the birds. And with the birds came a far calmer Gandalf than the one who had left the night before.

Fili and Kili made quick work of informing him of just what he had missed and it was quickly decided that if there had been trolls in the area there must have been a cave.

Sound reasoning, Bilbo had thought as she made a point of ignoring the newly returned wizard, not appreciating his childish tantrum of the previous evening one little bit. Really, you talked about problems. You did not just go storming of in a rage in the middle of nowhere. It was maddening.

Bilbo remained at the camp to assist with tidying things away for the days journey while some of the others - who obviously had no idea just how pungent a troll cave became after a very short period of time if their keenness was anything to judge by - went in search of the 'hoard'.

They returned shortly after they had left, and, to her surprise, not empty handed. Several of the company were counting coins into their leather purses while Thorin and Gandalf were both holding terribly long - taller than her - swords. No doubt the 'other shinies' Bert had talked about. She was grateful they had not offered her one of those ridiculously sized weapons as a gift. She doubted she could lift the empty sheath, never mind the whole thing.

She wondered if the blades had been crafted by the same person once upon a time and she couldn't help throwing a glance at her own sword when it lay by her bedroll when she heard Gandalf say they were Elf blades.

Were all of them Elfish work? Even hers?

Putting aside her annoyance in favour of satisfying her curiosity she quickly finished packing the dishes into the bag they belonged in and retrieved her own sword.

"Gandalf, what about this one?" she asked as she drew near to the two men.

He looked a little taken aback to see her holding a sword and it took him a moment to finally look away from the hand gripping the weapon by the sheath covered blade and or meet her gaze.

"Now, Bilbo Baggins, where did you get that?" he asked her like she was some faunt.

Bilbo bit back the sharp retort trembling on her tongue and simply informed him that she had found it by the troll's fire.

She glared at him, daring him to say anything after his desertion.

He said nothing, only took the sword from her, pulled it from the sheath and turned it this way and that.

"This too is an Elven blade," he told her and she felt a thrill.

A real Elven blade.

"The metal will glow when Orcs or Goblins are nearby," he smiled, handing it back to her.

She fought the desire to laugh until her sides hurt.

How frightfully handy.

* * *

><p>Bilbo turned around in wonder, her heart finally calming after the mad dash across through the woods and then across the open. Here was safety, in this beautiful valley tucked away from evil. It did not matter how often she visited the hidden valley it never ceased to amaze her with its beauty.<p>

The clatter of hooves on the bridge had her focusing her eyes on the ground and no longer on the splendour of the architecture and she watched the hunting party responsible for the killing of the Orcs gallop across the bridge.

She squinted in an attempt to recognise any of them when to her surprise she was dragged backwards by the straps of her pack and into the circle of the company nearly tripping over her own heals.

"Well, really," she muttered in irritation as the company drew their weapons as the hunting party circled them.

_Men and their inane displays of bravado._

The Dwarves only relaxed slightly when the leader of the party slid from his horse and spoke with Gandalf. It truly was amazing what the mention of food did. For no sooner had Gandalf made it clear to the Dwarves that Lord Elrond was not insulting their mothers by his speech - although Bilbo was certain he was trying to cause a problem by bursting into his native tongue the way he had done in front of the Dwarves - than all the Dwarves were willing to lower their weapons and accept the invitation of food and shelter.

She smiled at the lord of Rivendell as two of the Dwarves stood aside, allowing her to see more clearly and to be seen.

Elrond's eyes widened and he shot a frown at the company - taking each of them in with his piercing eyes - before he strode forward and dropped to a knee in front of her.

She curtsied as best as she could in her father's best trousers and smiled at their host.

"_My lady, the halls of Rivendell are ever open to you,_" he told her softly, taking hold of her hand - covered in mud and the skin cracking from holding reins for days on end - and placing a kiss upon it.

"_It is a pleasure to rest within you halls,_ _Lord Elrond. The splendour of your house is as if this is my first visit. As always,_" she smiled knowing nothing pleased the kindly man before her more than having his home praised by visitors.

She glanced behind him and saw that the Dwarves had stopped in their quest to find food and were gathered in a group watching her interactions with their host. Gandalf stood behind them, frowning and stopping in his conversation with Lindir.

"I am glad your hunt was successful my lord, none of you suffered from injuries I hope?" she asked, concentrating once more on the kneeling Elf.

She had recognised the markings upon the dead Orc that had fallen down the hidden entrance after them. They knew what straying into Elven territory meant. The fools.

"No my lady. And the Orc packs know what they risk should they cross our borders,"

Why had they crossed the borders? Where they hunting? She knew they could get carried away a little sometimes when they were on the trail of something. But then Gandalf was under the impression that they were after Thorin. Hardly surprising. With his attitude he probably went around making enemies everywhere.

"Indeed," she agreed, "And speaking of borders, I hope there have been no troubles along the mountain paths during the season…" she trailed off. She had been gone for some months and the trolls could turn out to be the least of her problems.

"None my lady," Bilbo felt light with relief, "All has been quiet from the mountains,"

Thank goodness for that. Most of her subjects had the tendency to act like children without adult supervision if she was gone for too long.

"I am glad to hear it," she sighed in relief, "Although the mountain giants shall soon be courting, shall they not?" she couldn't stop the playful smile from coming to her lips.

"Indeed they shall," he chuckled, eyes twinkling.

With one final squeeze of her hand Elrond rose to his feet and led her towards the stairs.

"Come my friends, and see how we treat guests in the Valley of Imladris,"

* * *

><p><strong>Bilbo is one clever cookie I'm so proud of her :-)<strong>

**I am so thrilled you are enjoying this story. You all ROCK! :)**


	4. The Hospitality of Elves

Bilbo ran a finger along the flat of the shining blade laying across her lap, the dull brown of her traveling clothes making the metal shine all the brighter. She followed the twirling lines that ran from beneath the hilt and down the blade. She knew that he dinner table was hardly a place to be brandishing weapons (for all of her adventurous ways her mother would not approve) but Elrond had insisted on the Company being served immediately and so they had arrived at the dinner table as they had arrived at the gate. Covered in sweat, dirt and with their packs piled in a heap in a corner.

She had been offered an escort to a room to wash before eating but the Dwarves decided they were having none of it and had all but manhandled her along beside them. Honestly, they intended for her to face a dragon but they didn't want to leave her in the company of a few Elves… They had a very odd sense of valour that was a certainty.

Bilbo at least had insisted on washing her hands while the Dwarves - apart from Oin - didn't seem to care for the dirt and goodness knew what else embedded beneath their fingernail and dived straight into the meal provided for them. Until they realised there wasn't a rasher of bacon or side of beef to be found on the table. Anywhere. Then they froze and saw it as their solemn duty to find some meat hidden beneath or in the greenery. From the mumbling and glares that they were throwing at any Elf who got within spitting distance it was clear that the Company thought the Elves were playing some kind of trick on them.

Bilbo had happily ignored the complaints issuing from the various member of the Company and munched on the vegetables on offer, smiling at Bifur some way down the table as he did the same. After seeing some of the things the injured Dwarf had eaten so far on their journey (and much to her surprise to no ill effect) she didn't even bat an eyelid when the Dwarf had reached for some of the blooms sprouting from a vase in the middle of the table and began to nibble on the petals. She had simply shrugged at the self-satisfied smile on his face and turned her concentration back to her own plate.

She knew that the meat would be brought out once it was cooked and the greenery on offer was more to tide them over in the meantime than anything else. But as the Company obviously couldn't muster the manners to be grateful for what they _had _been given she saw no reason why she should enlighten them.

Rude. That was what they were being. Plain rude and there was no need for it when they had been offered hospitality.

In there not so subtle way they had prodded for information on the 'warm welcome' she had received from Lord Elrond. Gloin had obviously been voted in as spokesman as the rest of the Company had dropped quiet while they waited for her answer.

She had answered with a simple "He knew my mother" which was true, it just was not technically the reason behind this particular greeting.

Elrond had entered sometime after they had been settled. He had been followed by a stern looking Thorin, a pleased looking Gandalf - no doubt happy that he had gotten his own way despite Thorin's objections - and an uncomfortable Lindir. The poor man no doubt hated his calm life being interrupted in such a way and she sympathised with his plight. While her life could be described as anything but calm at times she did have a

Elrond sat at the high table with Gandalf and Thorin - she had refused the honour when Elrond had whispered in her ear that she was welcome at his right (as was her due) - and they were making no secret of their conversation so when they began to speak of the blades that had been found she couldn't help but draw her present out of the scabbard.

Had this been a Goblin Cleaver too?

Bilbo shivered slightly as she imagined the cool metal stained with blood and glowing blue beneath the hot sticky liquid.

Maybe not she thought hopefully.

After all, for her size it was a small sword, but, for a Man or Elf it was more of a large dagger. Hardly much cleaving to be achieved with a dagger…she hoped.

"I wouldn't bother lass?"

She looked up from the shining metal and saw Balin watching her.

She slipped it back into the scabbard and out of sight, finding that it didn't hold the same beauty it had done before she had begun to over think things.

Horrible things really. Swords.

"You see, swords - well, most weapons of note really - are named for the great deeds they do in war," he explained to her, his eyes apologetic.

"Are you saying my sword hasn't seen war, Mister Balin?" she asked, trying to hide her relief that there had been no cleaving of any description happening with the aid of her present.

"Well, I'm not even sure it is a sword," he cast a glance at the sheathed weapon still sitting across her lap, "It's more of a letter opener really,"

The old Dwarf looked at her sheepishly as though he expected her to be offended. Maybe she should be, but she found that a letter opener suited her just fine. Better than any Goblin Cleaver would anyway.

"Mister Balin, that is the best thing you could have told me about this, I thank you," she smiled happily at him and slid the sword beneath her part of the bench. She went back to munching on her lettuce and carrots with a lighter heart.

* * *

><p>Bilbo admired the lovely room she had been given for the duration of the Company's stay in Rivendell. She had already sat on the bed and it felt the way she imagined curling up on a cloud would. Devine.<p>

The Company had objected – of course they had – to her being separated from them in this 'den of Elves' but she had made it clear that she was not sleeping on a bed roll on the floor when a perfectly, wonderful comfortable bed was within reach. And if they did think that was what she would be doing they were all mad.

She felt the soft thud of her letter opener hitting against her leg as she had returned it to its place on her belt after dinner. She shook her head with a fond smile flickering across her lips. She wondered if it had been another troll's hoard at one time or another or if the boys had been picking up anything that caught their fancy as they had travelled.

Gandalf had been trying to catch her eye after the meal – the Dwarves had been more than satisfied when the meat had made an appearance but they still viewed the Elves with distrust – but she had pointedly ignored him. She knew he wanted to know her side of just what had happened while he had been off pouting. The thing was that she could tell him nothing different than what she had told the Company, which was the truth…as far as it went anyway.

_Oh enough of this Bilbo!_

Here she was under a roof for the first time in weeks, with access to copious amounts of hot water and soap and she had a soft bed and clean clothes to clamber into after and she was just standing around like a right little idiot.

She untied the sword from her belt and leaned it against the wall. Her eyes caught the last rays of sunshine straying through the high arched window and she walked over to it.

The window was as wide as she was tall and as high as her ceiling at Bag End and gave a wonderful view out towards the mountain path that hugged the side of the valley, leading towards the Wilds.

Towards the Misty Mountains.

* * *

><p><strong>So, it is bonfire night here in the UK and my cats, hmmm we shall call them Pain and Panic, were totally freaking out! So a fair chunk of this chapter was typed while Pain was trying to...I don't even know what she was attempting to do. Burrow into me maybe?<strong>

**But tada. Despite the best efforts of the furry side of my life I made it and got this chapter finished!**


	5. Treaties, Trading and Dark Things

"The trading agreement still stand, Lord Elrond," Bilbo told her host, sipping at a glass of wine and setting it back on the highly polished table to the side of her.

She settled deeper into the comfortable arm chair that was so much at odds with its austere surroundings.

Elrond sat in a chair opposite her, a matching table beside him and his own wine glass in his hand.

"You are content with the terms of the last agreement?"

She nodded her head, savouring the rich fruity flavour of the wine on her tongue before swallowing it down.

"I am. My people are benefiting and I hope yours are also,"

A slow nod of acceptance from Elrond was all the answer she needed.

Their trade agreement had been in place almost as long as the treaty she had put in place when she had stepped into the roll demanded of her. She was glad that so far it was working as it should. She knew where she stood on matters, as did the Elves of Rivendell and the other settlements that Elrond had played mediator on her behalf for.

A companionable silence fell between them and Bilbo closed her eyes and breathed in the fresh air blowing gently through the glassless window.

She had enjoyed a refreshing night's sleep – sleeping in a bed for the first time in weeks would do that for a person – and had lingered under the soft, clean sheets longer than was strictly polite, before finally dragging herself from the heaven that was her bed and dressing in a clean shirt and trousers from her bag.

She had looked around to try and find her dirty clothing but it was gone and she assumed that someone had snuck into her room while she was sleeping and taken them to be laundered.

After a late breakfast – her meal schedule was all over the place thanks to the journey anyway – she had wondered through the gardens of Rivendell. It had been a lovely morning, warm but with a breeze just cool enough to make the heat pleasant. And then she had turned a corner.

Her face had flamed with embarrassment and she had squeaked at the sight in front of her.

All of the Company had been as naked as babes and using one of the fountains as a bath, in plain sight of everyone.

She had turned around, only to crash into Lord Elrond and Lindir who had just stumbled across the same sight as she had.

She hadn't known what to say. Tripping over apologies on the Companies behalf and hoping they were not causing too much of a disturbance.

Elrond had gently led her away to his quarters and it was there that he had lunch brought and their conversation moved from general talk of the Shire and Rivendell to more important things like treaties and trading agreements.

Thinking again of the state she had found the Dwarves in almost had her ears catching fire.

"My Lady, I hope you do not think I am prying,"

This caught her of guard and she focused all of her attention on her host, surprised by the sudden break in the silence.

"But why are you accompanying the Dwarves on this journey?"

Bilbo was not entirely sure what to say to this question as she didn't know just how much Elrond was aware of.

She knew they were waiting to read the map…that was why Gandalf wanted them to come here in the first place. Had this been done?

"I know that the Dwarves intend to take Erebor, my Lady, do not fret about giving away any secrets,"

That was a relief.

"So you succeeded in reading the map?" she asked him.

"Indeed, Gandalf was most perturbed to have missed the secret of it," Elrond smiled and Bilbo giggled at the almost childish glint of pride in the ancient beings eyes.

The amusement fled quickly enough however and Bilbo took another sip of her wine as she thought through her reasons for joining what would seem like a foolish quest.

"There are rumblings of dark things," Bilbo finally spoke, "Things beyond my realm of knowledge,"

There was always darkness ready to rise. It was the way of the world. But the whispers of such a power had been growing in volume for some time and for Gandalf to suddenly have taken an interest in a dragon….

"But not of the knowledge of some," Elrond lifted a brow, a wealth of meaning in the simple movement.

"No," she sighed, "And I will have words with him upon my return," Bilbo could feel a headache coming on, the pressure growing in her head and behind her eyes until she felt as though her skull would burst.

"Your alliance still stands?" he sounded surprised and she knew he had every reason to be.

She had attempted something that no one else had before and, so far, she was succeeding. She wouldn't deny that there had been some problems – still were actually – but it was to be expected and she was stubborn enough to ride out the storms in hopes of finer weather.

"There are some factions who do not agree and they have made this known…" she trailed off trying to organise her thoughts.

"That is what worries me. The darkness is rising. It must be for Gandalf to have taken an interest in the Dragon after all of these years,"

She chuckled at the look of surprise now apparent on Elrond's flawless face.

"Please, he is not as secretive as he thinks. A Dragon is a risk, no? Why not use the Dwarves need to reclaim their home to take care of the beast? But we are getting off the point," she waved a hand to dismiss the Lonely Mountain and its resident dragon.

"The Clans are splitting. The Darkness draws them like flies to rotten meat…"

_Flies to rotten meat? Really Bilbo, you have been too much in certain company for that to be the first word choice to come to mind._

"I shall inform the Council of this," Elrond told her.

"Ah yes, your White Council," she took another sip of wine, "You shall be convening sooner than any of you expected if I am not mistaken. Gandalf and his meddling will be the chief item being discussed if I am any judge,"

She couldn't help but smile knowingly at Elrond and his eyes bore into her.

"I am beginning to think you have a hidden talent or two, My Lady," he told her, no doubt thinking she had been listening at keyholes.

"No, I only spend my time governing a kingdom of children," she muttered, raising her glass in a silent toast to that kingdom before gulping down the rest of her wine. It really was nice stuff.

* * *

><p><strong>I am so sorry. I intending to have this posted on Thursday night and then when that didn't happen Friday night, but I have been pretty sick the past few days so that plan went out the window.<strong>

**Thank you for the thoughtful comments for my furry fiends. Pain and Panic are both recovered from the horror that is Bonfire Night :)**

**I know I am leaving a lot of thing unexplained. Which is a pretty knew thing for me but fear not. All will be revealed. Eventually. Mwahahahahaaaaaa.**

**ps - huge thank you to val who pointed out I had Bilbo removing her sword twice in the last chapter. I have fixed that :)**


	6. Leaving Rivendell

Bilbo enjoyed her time in Rivendell.

Her bed was comfortable, she had an endless supply of hot water, newly cleaned clothes and the food offered for every meal was marvellous.

What wasn't there to enjoy?

Of course there was the constant grumbling of the Company and the glares of the even broodier Thorin to contend with. She had thought it was impossible for Thorin's scowl to get any darker than she had seen it on the journey – she was wrong. The Company leader was dragging a black cloud behind him wherever he went – apparently trusting no one in 'this den of Elves'. It was as though he expected an Orc to jump out at him at every turn and then, when an Elf appeared, it was his suspicion being proved correct.

The members of the Company who didn't revert to their native tongue when it came to cursing had a whole variety of phrases used to the backs of the Elves of Elrond's house. While the sheer scope of insults was impressive Bilbo had to stop herself from boxing more than a few ears at the lack of respect being displayed by the Dwarves. Although her mind told her that their actions had no bearing on her at all, she felt ashamed of them and flushed in embarrassment whenever she overheard their insults.

It took her a day or two before she could control her blushing whenever she was in their company after stumbling across them all as naked as the day they were born. How was she supposed to look any of them in the eye after seeing them in such a state? She had become almost immune to a great many things over the years but in some matters her Baggins' manners and sensibilities were as strong as ever and this was one of them.

Their endless stream of insults and mortifying sights aside she found it was nice to get to know the Dwarves without the added stress of travel. They were a nice bunch really; even the sour faced Thorin had his good points.

The youngest members had jumped straight into her heart within the first few days of travelling. Where their elders had been cautious about approaching her, their open curiosity and endless stream of questions about Hobbits had been refreshing compared to the awkwardness of the others. But now, in the shelter of the valley, she found that the awkwardness the older Dwarves seemed to adopt whenever they talked to her was vanishing a bit at a time.

* * *

><p>"So mistress," Bofur spoke around his pipe and Bilbo looked across the fire at the cheerful Dwarf.<p>

"Yes, Master Dwarf?" she prompted him with a smile.

"That was quite the warm welcome his lordship gave you when we arrived…" he trailed of suggestively and Bilbo sighed. She was surprised the question had been so long in coming. They had been in Elrond's house for nearly a week now.

"Yes it was…" she smiled at him.

If he wanted to know something she wasn't going to make it easy for him.

The silence that had accompanied Bofur's comment told her that the rest of the Company were just as curious as the hatted Dwarf was.

"Almost like you know each other…" he said, taking the pipe from his mouth and blowing the smoke towards the flames.

She had decided to join them at their make-do camp for the evening meal and had enjoyed their boisterous company but now she was on her guard, ready to formulate a careful answer to any questions they might ask.

"My mother travelled from the Shire to Rivendell once or twice, you know?" she finally answered when it seemed like none of the Company were willing to let the question – that hadn't even been asked – go without being answered.

"And I too have enjoyed Lord Elrond's hospitality before now,"

This caught their attention.

"But we thought you hadn't travelled out of the Shire," Kili leaned forward as though he was expecting a good story.

"Didn't Gandalf say you –"

She stopped Bofur mid-sentence.

"Yes, well, unfortunately Gandalf is not aware of everything," she winked at the younger Dwarves, "Be sure not to tell him," she whispered conspiratorially.

The camp erupted with chuckles and outright laughter.

* * *

><p>They had been in Rivendell for almost a fortnight and Bilbo was happily snuggling into her bed when a loud knock at her door almost had her falling of it.<p>

She padded across the room and opened the door a sliver to see Balin standing in the hall, fully dressed and with an apologetic look on his face.

"Forgive me for disturbing your rest, Miss Baggins, but Gandalf has told us we must leave tonight,"

She asked no questions, knowing that the Council would no doubt have arrived by now and that they were more than likely the cause of the sudden change in plans, and closed the door.

She cast a sad look towards the bed.

She would miss that mattress.

* * *

><p>The journey out of Rivendell and then through the Wild Lands to the Misty Mountains was hard as Thorin pushed them till the very last rays of light faded from the sky each day. Bilbo was sure he thought that a party of Elves were hard on their tails but she knew that Gandalf was far too stubborn to allow the council to do such a thing. He would have convinced them to allow the quest to continue one way or another. Gandalf always got his way at the end of the day.<p>

The days of ceaseless travel didn't put a stop to the many stories the Dwarves had to tell around the camp fire and Bilbo was fascinated by their history. Of course it also meant that she had to sit quietly through a re-telling of the battle that took Thorin's grandfather's life when the younger members of the company begged for it to be told again. Their eyes bright with wonder at having a real hero in their midst.

Bilbo had to bite on her tongue to stop herself from making some sharp remark that would have her getting some very strange looks.

She knew of the history of Moria. Knew that since the Dwarves had mined too deep into the earth and woken a darkness they could not face it had lain abandoned for any to take. It just so happened that Orcs where the ones drawn to the empty halls. As long as Erebor stood strong the Dwarves, while not happy with the turn of events, seemed content enough to leave it be. And then a dragon took Erebor and what do the depleted Dwarven forces decide to do? They decide to attack an Orc stronghold.

Honestly what did the Dwarves expect to happen?

They had abandoned the mines for pities sake. Did they expect that just because they could no longer live there no one else would?

Did they expect the Orcs to just pack their bags, say thank you for the shelter, good bye?

Bilbo scoffed inwardly.

Unbelievable and so typical of the other races who were automatically in the right in such circumstances.

Bilbo remained quiet the rest of that evening and fell asleep without exchanging a word with any of the Company.

Tomorrow would see them on the mountain path.

-To Be Continued-

* * *

><p><strong>I am so excited to read the comments you guys leave. Some of you are guessing SOOOO close to where this story is going - this chapter may have given you a hint too. :)<strong>

**Side Note - If you are reading Of a Hobbit and an Elven King don't panic it is not abandoned. I am just having a super duper hard time with the next chapter. I am on my third (and a bit) re-write of it to try and get it right. As you can imagine for a 5000 word chapter it is taking a lot of time. I am hoping to have it up by next week at the latest though if I can finally get it nailed. Please bare with me :)**


	7. The Misty Mountains

Nights fell quickly in the Misty Mountains, even quicker when the weather turned as it had done early in the afternoon, and as the sun began to sink Bilbo hoped that Thorin would have the sense to find a crag deep enough to shelter in and stop them for the night.

The thunder and pelting rain provided the perfect weather for the Stone Giants and their courting. Like rutting stags the males would fight for the favour of the females and she did not want to be in the way when they began.

Of course, Thorin didn't have the sense of a rock, and continued the climb along the small path well past dark. The rain and darkness making what was already a dangerous endeavour all the more perilous.

And of course they had to get in the middle of what Balin had aptly named a Thunder Battle and rocks came crashing down about them all as the giants fell against the mountain face or scooped handfuls of rock out of the cliff to pelt at their opponents.

Bilbo would live a happy life - and longer - if she never had to repeat that experience again. Hanging from the rock face by the tips of her fingers had to have been one of the most terrifying experiences of her life – and she had a fair number to choose from as her repertoire grew by the year.

Understandably it had made her a little emotional (near death experiences would do that), and when Thorin had hoisted her back to the safety of the ledge and then spat his hurtful words about her not belonging, she thought that there was a certain attraction to the way some of her acquaintances dealt with people they didn't like. She wouldn't have minded chopping off his stubborn Dwarven head at that moment as tears had stung at her eyes.

Well, she would show him. She didn't know how but she would.

She joined the others in clambering into the cave Dwalin had deemed empty and settled down in a corner, content to ignore and be ignored.

She rested her head on her pack and tried not to sniff as ridiculous tears fell from her eyes without her permission. Sleepy from her silent crying, her fingers played with the grit strewn across the cave floor. Left, right and round in a circle her fingers went, until they fell into a dip in the floor. She traced the small crevice with a soft smile, small tears still rolling down her cheeks, and rolled over to avoid the draught.

She would wait until the others were asleep and then she would slip away…

* * *

><p>The noises of the battling giants outside the cave had ceased – whether they had moved far enough away for the storm to eclipse any sound they made or had stopped entirely Bilbo didn't know. All she knew was that she had never treasured silence as much as she did now.<p>

Well, maybe not silence.

She could hear the heavy breathing of the Dwarves and the rhythmic snoring of more than one of the Company echoing about the chilly cave and she slowly began to move. She knew from their weeks on the road that some of them would need a rock dropped on their heads to wake up – and even then it might not work – but she wasn't risking being stopped by the lighter sleepers around her. As quietly as she could she slipped her pack onto her back, fastened her letter opener about her waist and tiptoed carefully around the scattered bodies dotted about the cave floor.

"What are you doing?" Bofur's voice had her freezing in place before she had even made it into the open air.

She had forgotten all about the night watch Thorin had set in place.

Why did it have to be Bofur who caught her?

"I'm leaving," she whispered, still conscious of waking the rest of the party.

The Dwarf jumped up from his spot leaning against the wall and closed the small distance between them.

"No, you can't. You are one of us…Part of the Company,"

_Oh Bofur._

Why couldn't Thorin have been the one on watch duty? He would have probably kicked her out of the cave, no questions asked, in his current mood.

But it wasn't Thorin. It was Bofur. The one who had been the first to notice she had been missing out on the cliff, the one who had been the first to make her feel like she did belong.

But she didn't. And sooner or later they would all learn just how much she didn't.

"But I'm not, Bofur. Thorin was right. I don't belong here,"

"You're homesick," the poor man was grasping at straws now, trying to get her to stay. He thought she missed the Shire. And she did. But the Shire had stopped being her home a long time ago, "I understand,"

"No Bofur, I'm not homesick," she struggled to summon a smile for the usually so happy Dwarf who was frowning at her in concern.

"I just…I need to leave. I can't stay here,"

She needed to go back to where she belonged and forget all about a Company of Dwarves and their quest to retake a kingdom. Besides, if she was right about those gaps she had felt in the floor she had to stop –

"What that?" Bofur was squinting at something.

She followed his gaze to her waist and then to her sword.

She pulled it free from the sheath. Oh dear.

And eerie blue glow was coming from the blade, illuminating the darkness around them. Clinking and grinding noises came from beneath them and she watched as sand and grit fell away beneath her feet. Following straight lines one way and then suddenly changing direction.

Oh no.

"Wake up!" Thorin bellowed, but his order came too late as the ground fell away beneath them.

Bilbo leapt backward and scrambled on hands and knees so as not to join the rest of the Company in falling down into the mountain.

She struggled to her feet and winced. Her ribs would be making themselves known very loudly in the days to come.

She sighed and glanced around the now empty cave. Apart from a few bags that had been placed too close to the cave wall to fall with the others everything was gone.

"And this was what I had wanted to stop from happening," she grumbled irritably as she dusted off her clothes.

She edged close to the gaping hole that now occupied where the once solid cave floor had been and looked down.

Goblins were swinging from the ropes that operated the gears that sprung the trap the Company had been napping on.

She hoped the landing hadn't been too hard on them. Well, maybe she wouldn't mind Thorin landing on his rock hard skull. She might let him keep his stupid head if he at least got a bruise out of it.

Bilbo sighed at her own thoughts.

She was more likely to slay Smaug than give the order for Thorin's head to be removed.

The Goblins below her – their part of the plan obviously accomplished – were now swinging playfully from the ropes and chains, laughing and hooting at a job well done. Until one collided with another and then the whole thing dissolved into chaos as they swung and struggled to plant blows purposefully. Squeals and yells now drifted up to her.

_Oh for the love of-_

"Yoo hoo," she shouted down into the chasm and the mostly naked bodies froze in their fighting to glance up at her, beady eyes staring widely at her from grey mottled faces.

Squeals of a different kind issued from them now and she stepped further back and closer to the mouth of the cave to make room as the Goblins scrambled up the ropes and chains and over the flaps of the cave floor to stand before her.

She waited patiently as they climbed over each other, stood on each other and soon enough began to hit and bite - all sense of order gone.

She sighed. She could feel a headache coming on.

It was good to be back.

-To Be Continued-

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry for another delay with the updates. The bug I thought I had gotten rid of came back with a vengeance (and brought friends). Needless to say I was useless the past few days and sleeping was the best thing for it. I am still a bit icky but at least I can now look at my computer screen without my eyes tearing up and head swimming. Good times :)<strong>


	8. Watching

Bilbo stood near the edge of one of the high walkways, flanked by her Captain of the Guard and an assortment of his men behind him. She watched through narrowed eyes as the Company were lead through the passages and marched along the planks and walkways further into the mountain range. She tensed as a Dwarf elbow rammed into a Goblin head and hissed as the Goblin fell back from the crowd and shook his head to clear it.

That does it.

She had wanted to avoid this. She was going to sneak out of the cave, walk along the path a little further, make enough of a ruckus for the night watch to find her – there were secret passages galore along the mountain but she had no desire to try and find them in the dark - and tell them to let the Dwarves pass without molestation. Then she would have vanished from the Company for ever. No doubt with Thorin thinking she had made straight for Rivendell with her tail between her legs.

Easy and simple.

That had changed of course as soon as the trap had fallen open.

And now, as she watched the Dwarves struggle and fight against the guards, planting blows where they could she felt less than charitable towards them.

Really. They had been on her land. In her domain – She winced as another Dwarven body part collided with Goblin bone.

It was true that they were tough little beasts but that was no excuse to go and abuse them so.

An ache from her knuckles had her loosening fists she hadn't even realised she had made.

The tall figure of her Captain of the Guard stepped closer to her.

"What is your wish, majesty?" he grunted, his voice deep, but she knew he was more than capable of the high pitched squeals and wicked cackles all Goblins were able to make.

She glanced away from the sight of the Dwarves.

Her Captain stood taller than she did – most of the Goblins did despite their natural crouching posture – and his hand was resting on the hilt of a crude dagger tucked into the waistband of the tan cloth that was his only covering. They had leather thick skin and most Goblins didn't worry about wearing many layers. Even against the sharp rocks of the mountains and the chilly weather they seemed impervious, while Bilbo had to continue to wear layers to ward of the natural coolness that was inescapable within the caverns of the Misty Mountains.

She glanced below her just in time to see the Company vanish around a corner.

Her eyes narrowed again.

No one abused her Goblins and got away with it too freely.

"Have some fun with them," she couldn't stop the sharp smile from forming on her lips.

It would be nice to watch the Company panic for a little while.

_I'll show him who doesn't belong on a dangerous quest._

She may have been thinking of disappearing from the Company but that plan had changed and she was going to make the most of what had presented itself to her.

"But they are not to be harmed. Am I understood?" she may be angry with them all for not sticking up for her when Thorin snarled at her on the ledge, but that didn't mean she wanted them hurt any more than they were after a doubtless rough landing.

Her Captain bowed low and growled instructions to one of his subordinates who went scuttling off into the darkness – she knew he would reach the centre of the range before the Company.

She plucked thoughtfully at her still damp travelling clothing. They had lasted well throughout the journey but now there was a rip the length of her arm in the jacket from her scrabbling in the cave and small holes from her struggle on the cliff edge.

She looked a disgrace. Her poor father would be turning in his grave at the state of what had once been a pair of his best trousers.

She was not going to show herself like this.

"I shall be along directly, once I am changed,"

She spun on her heals to face the Goblins at her back.

They were all stood proudly to attention, hands resting on the hilts of their weapons and eyes fixed straight ahead. They all looked very impressive compared to her initial welcoming party. One of them was holding her pack and sword that had been recovered from the cave floor where she had thrown it as she landed. It was still glowing blue from the scabbard, showing that Gandalf was right about its abilities.

"Captain," the Goblin stood even straighter as she turned her gaze upon him, "Have the trolls returned?"

"They returned some days ago, majesty," he nodded.

_Oh, thank goodness._

Relief flooded her in a rush, making her feel almost dizzy with it. There was one less thing to worry about…Although the pang of guilt continued to bite into her whenever she thought of the poor farmer who had become their dinner. But unfortunately there was nothing she could do to fix that.

"Very good," she smiled at her Captain, "Now, will you please escort me to my rooms and then I shall deal with our visitors,"

Unknown to anyone looking from the outside, the Misty Mountains were riddled with natural and goblin-made passages that joined the whole mountain range from the inside. They led to storage caves and huge caverns filled with whole settlements throughout her kingdom. With a guard in front and behind, each carrying a burning torch she found her way easily by the flickering light through the passages and turns that she needed to reach her destination. She would be at her rooms and make herself presentable in no time. Then she would head to where the company were being taken.

The smell of the burning torches filled her nose and she had to blink her eyes wildly to stop them from watering as the smoke made them sting.

The sound of drumming drifted through the passages and echoed about her as she journeys through the caverns that lead to her chambers. She began to hum cheerfully to herself, reaching out to stroke the damp rock that surrounded her and whispered words beneath her breath.

"Down in the deep of Goblin Town,"

-To Be Continued-

* * *

><p><strong>So, Bilbo is a little conflicted. She likes the Dwarves but at the same time who do they think they are damn it!<strong>

**Thank you for the get well messages guys! I am still a bit under the weather but I am heaps better :)**


	9. Goblin Town

Have fun with them they had been told. And that was what they would do.

The torches smoked and spat from where they stuck out at angles along the main walkway to the centre of the town and the sound of a horn being blown and discs being smashed together sounded above the cheers and singing of the Goblins that filled the cavern.

The citizens of Goblin Town were obviously enjoying themselves immensely as they watched the Night Guard tug and push at the fowl smelling, soaking wet Dwarves and led them nearer to the centre of the town – oh, the night shift workers in the depths of the mountain range would be furious that they had missed out on this. An audience had gathered along the higher walkways and cheered in glee as they watched the procession come to a stop in the middle of the town in front of the giant Goblin who had just finished his song and was clearing his throat.

"What do we have here?" he demanded, projecting his voice marvellously through the cavern so even those perched on the highest of the ledges could hear him.

"Spies?" a cheer went up from them.

"Thieves?" another cheer.

"Assassins?" they went wild as the giant Goblin stretched his arms out and turned in a circle acknowledging their presence.

One of the guards stepped forward nervously, shuffling his feet about anxiously as the crowd hushed, waiting to hear what this new figure had to add to the proceedings. It had been some time since such entertainment had been brought to them.

The guard edged forward, never taking his eyes from the giant Goblin.

"Dwarves you malevolence," he announced and some hoots arose from the ledges in appreciation of this fancy word. Beautiful. It really was. What a word!

"We found them on the front porch," the guard had gained a bit more confidence and his voice grew stronger with every word and every reaction of the crowd.

Gasps of horror and booing were aimed at the Dwarves after this announcement, while others smiled and elbowed each other knowing it was their trap door that had led to the Dwarves being caught.

"Dwarves!" the giant bellowed, still feeling less than charitable to the group after their reactions to his song.

Really 'abomination' was putting it a bit strong wasn't it?

"Search them," he ordered and the guards began to paw at the Dwarves.

A bag of silver fell clanging to the ground.

The nervous Goblin cleared his throat again and held out a shining candelabrum to be inspected, the brown sack grasped in his other hand hung open revealing a selection of other shiny knick-knacks.

"It is my belief your great protuberance, that these Dwarves are in league with Elves,"

More gasps from the onlookers at this unexpected twist. Who would have thought it? Dwarves and Elves? What was the world coming to?

The Great Protuberance took the silver candlestick gently by the stem and turned it upside down.

He studied the markings on the base.

"Made in Rivendell, hmmm," he glared at the Dwarves, "second age," he announced, "Couldn't give it away," he threw it into the crowd, sure that someone would catch it.

"Strip them of their weapons," he growled and the guards went quickly to work, being sure to place all of the weapons in a pile to be gone through later, "We will show them how unexpected visitors are dealt with here,"

The Dwarves began to fight against their captors once again as their weapons were taken from them.

* * *

><p>As the Dwarves were struggling so violently it took them some time before they realised that first, the Goblins weren't actually doing any damage with their rough treatment and whips (in fact they were striking their clothing and not with enough force to even bruise through the material) and second, things had gone very quiet.<p>

"Really now, must you all cause such a fuss wherever you go?" a stern, steady voice queried clearly and one by one they stopped their struggling and turned to find their burglar standing on the walkway behind them shadowed by a group of Goblins. Her arms were folded across her chest and she was frowning at them as though they were children who had done something to disappoint her.

"That's more like it," she nodded her head once all of them stood still.

"Bilbo what-" began Kili only to receive a sharp prod in the side from a guard.

"Speak when spoken to," the creature snarled at him as the Dwarves were forced apart to create a path and their burglar passed through them, her head held high and with an air as regal as any queen.

She came to a stop before the giant Goblin who had bowed before her and she turned to face them.

"Now then, if you can all be trusted to behave yourselves, you will be released,"

Obviously taking their shocked silence as acceptance she gestured for the guards to loosen their bonds and back away.

All of their thoughts were so scattered none of them even considered running for it when their hands were freed.

"Your majesty," grovelled the large creature at Bilbo's back, busying himself with lifting his 'throne' and handing it down to a group on the walkway directly below him, "May I be the first to welcome you back. The mountains once again shine brightly with your presence. my lady,"

"As eloquent as ever sir," their burglar smiled at the grotesque creature.

The Dwarves stood in open mouthed astonishment as the Goblin stood to the side to reveal a small chair – a throne of sorts from the decorative carvings that adorned the arm rests – and their burglar sat in it.

She gestured for one of the Goblins who had taken up a post at the side of her chair, her eyes never leaving them. They were narrowed, dangerous.

"Captain, double the watch," her voice was different, so sure and commanding as she spoke to the Goblin who had bent towards her.

The Goblin nodded his head but there was a slight tilt to it that showed he didn't know why he was to so this thing.

Bilbo simply smiled and some of the company tensed, knowing her reason behind the order.

"We are expecting the company of a very meddling wizard,"

The Goblin snarled something and the next thing a horn sounded throughout the silent cavern.

The Company couldn't believe that the creatures who had been hooting and hollering only seconds before were capable of such stillness.

For the first time they noticed her change in dress.

Gone was the travelling clothes, the red jacket, short trousers and waist coat. In there place was a grey gown that showed a figure none of them knew she had possessed beneath the large men's clothing she had worn through their journey.

The gown hung from high on her neck to the floor, it had made her appear to float when she walked. Long sleeves hid her arms and gloves encased her hands – making them appear even smaller than they were.

What drew their attention though was the silver decoration that sat on her head. It was made of some of the finest silver any of them had seen. The delicate band encircled her head, some of it hidden by her hair that was no longer confined to a tight bun but had been loosely swept up, the curls hanging from where they had been pinned. Small chains of silver hung at the front from each side of her face, catching the torch light as she moved.

She sat back in the throne like chair and studied them, her eyes harder than any of them had ever seen them, even when they were emptying her pantry.

Finally she spoke, a sharp smile on her face and even sharper gleam in her eyes - or was it just the silver that made it seem so.

"I welcome you to my realm, gentlemen,"

-To Be Continued-

* * *

><p><strong>A wee bit of trivia for you - This is the very first chapter I wrote of this story - believe it or not. I had first intended to make this a crack (?) one-shot and then I got to thinking that I could make a proper story out of it so TADA that's what happened.<strong>

**Obviously there are some changes from the way things were in the film at this bit - it was also inspired by the extended edition :)**


	10. The Goblin Queen

Well…maybe she could have thought that out a little bit more.

Bilbo adjusted herself on the chair – the throne had to be one of the most uncomfortable pieces of furniture ever invented – and sighed, tapping on the arm rests with gloved hands to try and dispel some of her agitation.

Tap, tap, tap.

The Dwarves were staring at her. Their eyes wide with…something. Even Thorin was staring at her and not ranting or raving like she had expected him to be. Wonderful. She had broken them all.

She didn't really know how she had thought this would go. After all, she had hoped to avoid it entirely. Or break it to them a bit more gently than this. Maybe as a story over the fire one evening. Yes, because that would make it a lot easier for them to swallow. They would have either laughed at her – thinking it was all some grand joke – or worse, believed every word, not let her explain and abandoned her, or…well, she didn't want to think about the other option her mind had concocted but she knew that the Company were capable of making some very rash decisions…

The silence of the Dwarves and restless shifting of the audience was disrupted by the sound of struggling and trampling along the bridge.

What now!

She stood - the slight elevation of the step at the base of the throne giving her the added height to see over the crowd of Goblins and Dwarves before her.

"Release me-" she knew that voice.

A unit of her watchmen were crossing the ramp with a very disgruntled Gandalf. She scanned the wizard frantically. He wasn't injured, but then she knew Gandalf could probably survive a fall from the top of a mountain with nothing to show for it but a bruised ego. No, it wasn't injuries she was looking for.

The staff, the staff, the staff. Where is it?

_Oh, thank heavens. _

One of her Goblins bringing up the rear was carrying the staff, struggling with the item that was taller than he was.

The watchmen were paying Gandalf's struggles no heed as they all but wrestled him before her. The wizard had been so consumed by his efforts to get free that he seemed blind to the fact that he had just been led through the Company and now stood right in front of her.

"Attacking innocent travellers," he was grumbling to himself while still attempting to shrug himself free.

Bilbo rolled her eyes.

As if his grumbling would do him any good.

"Really now Gandalf, you are not and I doubt have ever been, an 'innocent traveller',"

Slowly he looked up from where he had been levelling a glare at a Goblin. She would have laughed at the stricken look on his face if she wasn't striving to be regal. Nothing ruined the appearance more than bursting into a mad giggle.

"Bilbo," his voice was hoarse, almost a whisper.

She smiled. She was enjoying Gandalf's surprise – obviously Elrond had kept her identity to himself.

"You did not know the end of your own story, Gandalf," she told him, relishing in his frozen expression, "Welcome to my kingdom,"

She waved a hand to encompass everything around her.

"If you don't mind," she sat down, her back straight and hands draped on the arm rest. This was her kingdom and they would know it in every small way she could think of, "your staff will be kept safe for the time being," she nodded to the bearer of the staff who immediately placed it with the rest of the weapons being guarded by watchful eyes.

Finally the wizard found his tongue and would have stepped closer to her had his keepers not put a rapid halt to his progress.

"Perhaps," he cleared his throat, "Perhaps you should finished the tale, my dear" he blinked owlishly at her and she leaned forward, bracing her hands on either side of her, ready to stand. She changed her mind however and settled back down.

"Very well,"

She cast a glance behind Gandalf and saw that more of the Company were finally drifting from their stupor.

She focused once again on Gandalf and smiled.

"To the victor go the spoils,"

He seemed confused – a state of mind he wasn't at all familiar with Bilbo thought with twisted glee.

"Bullroarer Took did take the head of the Goblin King – whether this was accomplished by one swipe of a club and whether it went down a rabbit hole is open to speculation," personally, Bilbo seriously doubted it, "It wasn't discovered until sometime later that Goblins have a legal system of sorts. Golfimbul showed himself lacking in leadership by being beaten in battle, who better to take his place than the one who had taken his head?"

Understanding dawned on Gandalf's face, which was a shame because she had really enjoyed knowing more than he did. It didn't matter though. There was plenty more to come that would send the wizard for a loop.

"Logical, don't you think?"

"Indeed," Gandalf muttered.

She could almost see the wheels turning inside his head and she very nearly laughed. If he thought he was going to use her in the same way he was using the Dwarves then he had another thing coming.

She had her own reasons and none of them were to become a piece on Gandalf's chess board. For all that he was doing what he was for the good and safety of all, she would do what she needed to keep her people safe. It just so happened that assisting in the quest was part of that.

"Rulership has been passed through the Took line ever since,"

Bilbo would be the first to admit that her predecessors had not been all that good at their jobs. She had a sneaking suspicion that the only reason the Goblin King's line had not done away with their Took leaders was because of bone idleness. Hobbits had grown soft in the Shire through the years of peace and they did not know the first thing about governing a nation of Goblins. Even the family known for its adventurous ways drew a line somewhere.

"But, surely there were members of your family in line before you?" Gandalf queried.

He was right. The only thing that had made her even a possibility was her mother's blood.

"Yes, well, I drew the short straw," a cheer rose from the watchers and she pinched her nose.

They really weren't the sharpest knives in the drawer.

That had been the case though. No one else would accept the roll and order needed to be upheld to some degree in the Misty Mountains.

Gandalf stared at her and she met his gaze full on. He didn't speak and neither did she – she had no reason to now that she had told him all he needed to know for the time being.

Fed up with the silence Bilbo stood and Gandalf was immediately dragged back from the throne to give her room to step down.

She walked around the edge of the platform, her Captain several paces behind her.

She had been so preoccupied by the Dwarves and then Gandalf she had not paid any attention to the state of things. She crinkled her nose in distaste at the sight of the skeletons secured to the polls on either side of the walkway and ran a finger along the skull of one of them before flicking it dismissively. She was glad it had been picked clean. The smell of rotten flash was not something she wanted wafting around the caverns.

The Dwarves - all of them free from their shock – were beginning to shift uncomfortably and she heard more than one grunt of revulsion.

She ignored them.

"I see you have been decorating in my absence," she spoke to her Captain but it was the Giant Goblin – named Golfimbul for his unlucky ancestor – who answered.

"Gifts, my queen," he told her from his spot beside her throne.

"Gifts?" Gandalf gasped, once again discovering his voice.

"Yes, gifts," she turned about to face the Dwarves and one wizard, all of them wearing mixed expressions of disbelief and disgust.

Some people got flowers as gifts, she got bodies. And she knew very well who they were from and that they had more than likely been branded traitors.

"Now then, you all no doubt have-" a horn blared through the cavern and a cheer rose up from her subjects who had yet to grow bored of the proceedings.

Just wonderful.

She cast a frantic eye about the platform.

No where to put them.

She settled for what she could.

"Put them behind me, now," she snarled.

"Majesty," her captain began.

"Do not argue," she told him firmly, receiving a low growl in return but he did as she asked.

"All of the prisoner behind her majesty," he growled at those lagging in carrying out her orders, and the stragglers were wrangled between her back and the throne, complaining loudly the whole while.

She turned on them.

"Silence!"

Her eyes went to the tall figure of Gandalf who towered over the Dwarves, he went to open his mouth but she shot a frown at him and his mouth closed again.

There was no avoiding Gandalf being seen but the Dwarves had a chance of blending in with their captors if they remained quiet.

A horn sounded once again and the drums began to pound, matching the beating of her heart.

Could things go anymore wrong this day?

-To Be Continued-

* * *

><p><strong>Dun dun dun. <strong>

**So that is everyone in Goblin Town. And who could the new arrival be? The same person who sends her body bouquets perhaps?**

**:)**


	11. The Caller

The Dwarves were silent, from Ori to Thorin. All of them couldn't quite connect the woman who had been with them every step of the way from the Shire with this queenly figure now before them.

While they travelled Miss Baggins had been happy to talk with them, but there always seemed to be a wall that slammed up when certain things were mentioned and she would either answer a question as vaguely as possible or divert it entirely. Now it all made sense. It wasn't that she was uncomfortable with them, it was that she was hiding something.

They cast their eyes about wildly. A big something… A whole mountain range worth of Goblins was definitely a big something.

There was a gleam in her eyes sharper than any blade they had carried, a gleam they had never seen before in the seemingly gentle Halfling's gaze, and she was wearing a grin that told them as well as any words could that she was in charge of the situation.

Several of them (understanding just how precarious a position they were in) began to rapidly cast their minds back over their journey. Searching their memories for any grievance she may have against them.

They paled.

Their memories were not encouraging and they began with invading her burrow – it's a smial! I'm not a rabbit – and emptying her pantry and ended with Thorin shouting at her and the way they had all ignored her soft sniffles. She no doubt thought she couldn't be heard over the sound of the crashing rocks and the rain, but they were Dwarves and used to picking out sounds when all was chaos. A thunder storm and battling stone giants were nothing compared to the constant clamour of a mine.

They were doomed.

* * *

><p>When Gandalf arrived they couldn't help but feel elated. After all, Gandalf knew Bilbo more than any of them did and besides, he was a wizard he would –<p>

Oh.

Any hope they felt promptly died when Bilbo unapologetically kept Gandalf separated from his staff.

Now, more than ever, they were aware of the peering eyes of the countless Goblins. They were surrounded on all sides by enemies and they were defenceless. It was true they were only a matter of feet away from the pile of axes, hammers and swords that had been stripped from them but with the number of goblins surrounding them and it… well, it may as well have been a league.

They listened in stunned silence to the tale Bilbo told Gandalf. Hobbits had fought in battles? They all seemed such a soft lot with their lush fields and full pantries. Those who hadn't heard Gandalf speak of Bullroarer Took that night in Bag End listened with astonishment written clearly on their faces.

A Hobbit - a being smaller than them - was supposed to have beheaded the Goblin King in battle? It was unbelievable. And yet here was Miss Baggins sitting on a throne – such an ostentatious chair could be nothing but – and here they were surrounded by her…her what exactly? Her Royal Guard?

Gandalf fell quiet and they all continued to follow his example. None of them knew exactly what to say anyway. Even Balin, always so ready with his words, was still rendered speechless.

They all turned slowly so as not to excite the attention of their captors and kept their eyes fixed on the Hobbit who it seemed had hidden depths none of them could have dreamt of.

She was circling around them, sticking to the edge of the wooden platform. She moved with a grace none of them had noticed before and as she moved beneath the torches the flickering flames caught the silver of her head dress and the gold in her hair.

She came to a stop and they watched in fascinated disgust as she reached out with a gloved hand, and, with one finger traced the skull of a skeleton tied to the securing poles of the bridge. They had not noticed the decorations as they had been marched across the walkway.

Some of them followed her gaze and paled further at the sight of a matching skeleton on the other side of the bridge. They balked at the idea of them being gifts. Who would send Bilbo Baggins such a thing as a present?

Surprisingly, despite the disgruntled scrunch to her nose, Bilbo seemed more amused by the skeletons presence than anything else and even flicked the one she was admiring playfully with her finger.

They shuddered at the sight.

Bilbo now focused her attention on them again but before she could finish speaking they watched the colour drain from her face when a horn blast echoed about the cavern.

For the first time since she had appeared to them she seemed to be on the brink of panic. Her eyes darted about desperately until she snapped orders for them to be pushed in front of her throne, which placed her between them and the bridge.

All thoughts of remaining quiet fled and they found their voices again. They fought against the Goblins as they were herded towards the throne, throwing punches and curses with equal dexterity but it got them nowhere but where the Goblins wanted them to be.

"Silence!"

Bilbo's sudden viciousness had them obeying her order just as the horn sounded again and the banging of drums thumped in their ears.

They looked to Gandalf who had been pushed to the throne with them for reassurance but received none.

He was staring wide eyed and slack jawed towards the bridge.

* * *

><p>Bilbo breathed out steadily to calm herself. She had been given no time to prepare what to say or what to do. Everything had just fallen apart.<p>

Well, all she could so was hope to avoid adding any more skeletons to her collection of sweet nothings.

She watched the tall figure approach, walking along the gently swaying bridge as though it was solid ground. She really needed to have that seen to. It would collapse one of these days. Four underlings walked along behind him. They lacked his grace but were keeping pace with him admirably well despite the height difference.

_Please stay quiet. Please stay quiet. _She begged the Dwarves and Wizard silently as the caller came to a stop before her.

Bilbo had to crane her neck to see him but not for long.

The massive figure dropped to one knee and she could drop her head slightly to look into the pale blue eyes and heavily scared face of the last person the Dwarves would want to see.

Azog bent low over her hand which he had scooped up from her side with his only one.

She cleared her throat.

"**Husband**," she hissed in the speech that sent chills down the spines of other races, drawing her lips back from her teeth to form the word.

Perhaps none of the company understood Black Speech.

"**Wife**," he snarled into her skin.

There was a loud inhalation of breath behind and Azog's head shot up from her hand.

She was going to kill Gandalf.

-To Be Continued-

* * *

><p><strong>DUN DUN DUN.<strong>

**So...some of you called it. Kind of. :)**

**I wasn't planning on having another chapter not from Bilbo's POV but then I started writing and for some reason I just kept coming back to the Dwarves. :)**

**PS - I am so sorry for the delay again. I just can't seem to shake this bug.**


	12. The Pale Orc

Azog's eyes darted to meet her own. They were narrowed and she could see his nostrils flair as he breathed in deeply, taking in the scents around him. He looked directly behind her and she watched his eyes widen and then narrow again, his teeth bared in an animal like snarl.

This was not good.

It had been a simple instruction to follow and they couldn't even do that. What was so hard about staying quiet? Nothing. Absolutely nothing!

The massive Orc stood and stalked passed her. She reached desperately for his hand to stop him before he did something she would regret.

Her small hand grasping at his large one was almost comical.

"Azog –" she began only for him to cut her off with a snarl.

He slid his hand free of her grip easily enough and continued on.

He stalked towards the now desperately struggling Dwarves who were being kept in place by her circle of Goblins. The sounds of their shouting filled the cavern along with the shrieking of their keepers. Was that Balin and Dwalin struggling to keep Thorin back?

It was. The Dwarf was growling words at his men, struggling to get free of them, his eyes fixed on Azog.

What was he planning on doing exactly? All of their weapons – even the arsenal she knew Fili carried around with him – had been taken from them.

She watched almost in a daze as Azog plucked Throin from the crowd by his throat – Balin and Dwalin were shook off with a frightening ease - and slammed him viciously against one of the posts holding a flaming torch. The Dwarves doubled their efforts to get free but failed when her Captain of the Guard shouted for reinforcements to restore order and silence the prisoners – a bit late now but never mind.

Just what had she done to deserve this?

She had to stop this. Her feet were moving her forwards before she was even conscious of making the decision.

Her Captain of the Guard moved to stop her but she shook him off her arm and continued toward the fuming Orc.

Thorin's eyes were desperate but he never looked away from Azog and despite the fact that he must be finding it hard to breath his eyes remained wide open.

"Azog-"

"**You dare bring this one here**_,_" he snarled at her, turning away from the struggling Dwarf.

"**He is my guest!**" she struggled to remain calm as Azog waved his metal limb towards her. The tip of it nearly brushing against the end of her nose. She could hear the snarling of her Captain but raised a hand to halt any movement he might make to intervene. She knew the Orc wouldn't think twice about throwing him over the side of the platform.

"**He took my arm**," he spat, turning his attention back to Thorin and placing the tip of his blade sharp limb menacingly to Thorin's chest. She watched it press into the Dwarves leathers…enough was enough.

"**And you took his grandfather's head**," she snarled at him, ready to end this insanity before the platform was stained with blood – a pest to get out, whole floor boards would have to be replaced – "**At least you still have yours on your shoulders! So far, I fail to see the grievance!**"

Azog's head slowly turned back to her and a smile of predatory satisfaction slowly spread across his snarling lips at the memory.

Bildo rolled her eyes wondering just how she had managed to keep her sanity all of this time. Well, obviously she had lost it at some points. She had agreed to an alliance with the Orcs after all….

"**Now**," she sighed, "**Will you cease your shouting?**" she quirked a brow and waited patiently for his reply, locking her knees to stop her legs from trembling. Her heart leapt over and over again in her chest as with each passing moment Azog still did not release Thorin.

Finally the Orc made a move, throwing back his head and laughing.

After his bout of amusement had ended he met her eyes and leaned down slightly to her level, his grip still firm on Thorin's throat. The Dwarf was beginning to turn an alarming shade of red as he struggled to draw breath.

"**I shall take you head yet, little one,**" he spoke softly making the threat almost an endearment. Then again, the number of times he had threatened her with beheading she supposed it had become just that.

She smiled.

"**You always say such nice things to me,**" she straightened and stood as tall as she could.

"They are my guests," she spoke in Common for the benefit of the now immobile Company, "And you will treat them as such,"

Azog scowled at her but she stubbornly kept her eyes meeting his and dropped her voice.

"**Or you and your men can sleep with the Wargs this night!**" she hissed.

Azog cocked his head to the side – assessing her. She frowned at him. The seconds passed and her Captain began to shift closer to her – he never had trusted Azog around her and was always on his guard.

Spotting this the white Orc bared his teeth at the Goblin beside her before throwing Thorin from him and into the crowd where he had plucked him.

Bilbo winced as Thorin landed on several Dwarves – taking more than one of her Goblins down with him. They all struggled to stand after the shock of having Thorin Oakenshield tossed at them with no warning. She noticed the Gandalf had managed to avoid the mess entirely. Typical.

Relief made her limbs turn to water and she was glad of her Captain gripping her arm to steady her despite Azog snarling at them and glaring at the hand on her arm.

He brushed passed her.

"**I have a gift for you, wife,**"

Oh dear.

Patting the Goblin's hand in thanks he released her and she turned slowly. Not daring to think what her husband's 'gift' could be. The Company had been disgusted by the skeletons but they didn't know the bones weren't the worse things he had brought to her.

"A gift?" she spoke to his back.

He was striding towards his men who had been standing back the whole time.

She noticed now that one of them had a sack over his back. She could see with the flickering lights that it was stained with dark patches of – she gulped and looked away. She didn't want to know what it was stained with but as Azog was handed the bag she knew she was about to find out.

The Goblins – still watching after all this time on the walkways – cheered at the mention of a gift. They all thought his gifts fitting, and she had no doubt, romantic. Bilbo supposed they were. If you were an Orc.

She couldn't fault him. Azog did try. She remembered one memorable occasion when he had presented her with a severed head on a bed of poison ivy, dandelions and stinging nettles… It was the thought that counted.

He tipped the sack and she leapt back as the mangled remains of a…she thought it was an Orc, toppled out and landed with a collection of thuds and thunks onto the wooden boards.

She forced herself to look back at her present when she saw the proud look upon the giver's face. She gulped, forcing down the bile at the smell. She would have oils burned in the torches for the foreseeable future. Maybe there was some lavender left in the stores…

Bilbo knew what a wolf attack looked like. No one who had survived the Fell Winter had done so without gaining that knowledge. And she knew that something a lot larger than a wolf had savaged the creature at her feet.

"**And what was this fool's crime that you threw him to the Wargs?**" she asked as casually as she could, flicking the trailing fabric of her gown out of the way of the mangled flesh.

She knew that he only ever brought her enemies or traitors and wondered which one this was.

"**A spy," **

Now this caught her attention and she looked at Azog expectantly, waiting for him to add more when a commotion began once again behind her.

Azog snarled in the direction of the Dwarves but thankfully remained where he was.

"Captain,"

The Goblin came to stand in front of her and stood as straight as his slightly stooped back allowed him.

"Show our guests to their accommodation for the evening," after all, there was no point in trying to speak with Thorin – or any of the Company – right now. None of them would be in a receptive frame of mind. Even cheerful Bofur had no doubt reached his limit.

"The cells, my Queen?"

Oh for the love of-

"No, Captain," she replied wearily, "To the guest rooms. They are to be guarded at all times and fed. I will send for them later,"

Just what time was it now anyway?

It didn't matter she had matters of far more importance to deal with than the Dwarves and while she was doing that it would give them time to calm down.

The guards hurried the Company away and she tried to ignore the curses some of them levelled at her in their confusion and anger. Gandalf was casting a look filled with disappointment at her and she tried to not let it hurt.

**"Half rations for the filth," **Azog snarled after them.

"Azog-"

**"It will teach them," **he replied, leaving it at that and the Captain of the Guard nodded his head in understanding.

Bilbo sighed, not bothering to correct Azog's order. She had a feeling that even if she did her Captain would ignore her. This seemed to be one of the rare occasions where he agreed with her husband.

She looked around.

They were still being watched by countless eyes and she gestured to Golfimbul who had been standing like a statue by her throne through all of the drama.

He lumbered towards her, nodding respectfully to Azog while voiding the Orc's eyes.

"In two days I shall have an audience with all who require it," she told the giant.

"Very well, your Majesty," he bowed theatrically and she couldn't resist smiling at him as he stood straight and shouted her plans.

There was a general cheer and finally coming to the decision that the entertainment was over the Goblins began to drift away.

She looked up at Azog.

"I believe we have some things to discuss,"

-To Be Continued-

**Ooo...they are going to have a talk. What can that be about? And who is the spy?**

**Dun dun dun!**

**Can I just say a HUGE thank you to all of you for the support you have shown for this story. I was completely blown away by the response to the last chapter and you have no idea how encouraging it is! You are all wonderful :)**

**Have a safe weekend everyone. x **


	13. A Domestic Scene

The room was cosy. Well, as cosy as a room dug out of solid rock and inside a mountain could be. Bilbo had done everything that she could to make it so but it would never feel the same as Bag End. The stone walls would never hold the same warmth as being surrounded by earth.

Not long after her coronation – if it could even be called by such a grand title - she had tried to insist on a wooden home in the common living quarters where most of the Goblin population of the Misty Mountains resided but it had been one of the few things her Captain of the Guard had strongly disagreed with her on. It would be too difficult to guard, too many access points…too easily set ablaze with her inside (she didn't want to think about who would want to burn a building with her in it).

As it was there was one main entrance to her rooms and a secret passage hidden behind one of several heavy and very old tapestries on the wall.

Coincidently all of the workers who had been involved in crafting the room had perished in a cave in.

Bilbo suspected that her Captain may have taken his duties on secrecy and protection a little too far and orchestrated the deaths of anyone else who knew about the hidden exit. But as it seemed to be nothing but an accident there was nothing that she could do about it. However, that did not excuse the very pleased look he got whenever it was mentioned. Bilbo had learned that in some cases there really was bliss in ignorance.

So, at the insistent of her Captain, she continued to live in a glorified cave. Her Hobbit sensibilities suffered but there was no other answer for it.

It was pleasant enough as far as living accommodations went. It was no Bag End, but then nothing would be.

Heavy rugs littered the floor as well as the walls. Various animal furs, from wolf to fox (gifts she actually approved of) lay over the few chairs that dotted the room and on the low bench seat by the fire.

Lighting fires within the mountain was difficult because of the lack of ventilation but her suite was one of the few that had small channels the led to the surface. Bilbo didn't dare to think what would happen if these channels ever needed sweeping.

The room had been quickly prepared for her after her rapid visit to change her clothes. The fire had been lit and she was glad to see a tray of food sitting on a table. A decanter filled with a ruby red liquid sat on another table next to a jug.

Bilbo walked over to the drinks and held up a heavy wooden goblet that was almost the size of her arm and had quite a bit of weight to it.

She raised it towards her visitor.

"**Wine?**" she asked her companion, already knowing the answer, "**Or ale?**"

Azog stepped into the room, having to duck slightly to gain entrance and grunted.

"Ale it is then," she muttered as she went to lift the jug. She could hardly lift it without her arm trembling and a dry chuckle came from the Orc.

Bilbo was about to give him a tongue lashing when she was gently shoved out of the way and Azog took over pouring the drink. She watched as he effortlessly picked up the full jug and poured out the amber liquid into the goblet. She moved to pour her own drink only for him to beat her to it.

It was amazing to watch the massive hand close about the fine crystal decanter and pour the wine so gently into the glass that was just as delicate looking. She had no doubt that he could smash the thing with one hand and very little effort.

She took the wine glass from him with a smile of thanks and took a sip of the warm liquid as she picked her way across the room to the fire and curled up on the fur covered bench. She leaned back against the feather stuffed cushioned and sighed in bliss-filled comfort.

She could hear Azog shifting behind her but it didn't worry her as much as it used to. Once upon a time his shifting about used to make her nervous – as was only natural - but now she knew he would sit when he wanted and not before. He was not used to such confined spaces and even the high ceiling of the cave was cramped compared to the open air.

Bilbo stared into the flames while her husband settled himself and she sipped at her wine, savouring the way it slid down her throat and warmed her from the inside out. She was surrounded by warmth. The furs beneath her were soft and comfortably heated from the fire and she couldn't stop herself from stroking the rich hair. She glanced down and identified the pelt she was sitting on as wolf.

She smiled and chuckled at the irony. A wolf had nearly ripped her throat out a long time ago and now here she was very much alive and using one of its brethren as a seat covering. She gave an unladylike snort and took another drink of her wine in a silent salute to her own survival. Life was funny.

"**Dwarves?**" the snarl came from behind her.

Bilbo smiled and raised her glass in a silent toast to the fire.

_And there we have it._

Bilbo supposed that she should be grateful he stayed quiet during the walk to her rooms. This was not a conversation she had felt like having in front of anyone else. At all. The smile faded from her lips and she sighed. It was time to face the consequences of her ridiculous decision.

"**Yes, dwarves,**" she agreed with a small nod.

As long as they were stating the obvious she would play along with him.

"**And a wizard?**"

Ah, so he had spotted Gandalf and by the sounds of it he was not happy with his presence at all.

Who was she trying to fool? Of course he had seen Gandalf. It was almost impossible to not see the gangly wizard in a sea of Dwarves and Goblins.

"**And a wizard,**" she nodded her head.

_And I really hope they are guarding his staff properly._ Bilbo wouldn't put it past Gandalf to find some way of getting to his staff and if he did the whole realm would all be aware of it very quickly. Bilbo had never seen Gandalf as anything but the benevolent grandfatherly figure he had portrayed since her childhood. But she wasn't a child any more and she knew what the troublemaker was capable of when he put his mind to it.

She heard a deep grumble behind her that grew into a snarl.

Bilbo knew that if she was to turn around it would be to find Azog's teeth bared and his eyes blade sharp.

It looked like the conversation about his spy would be put off for the time being in favour of her thirteen Dwarves and one Wizard.

"**Why?**" he snarled.

Unlike when speaking with Elrond she did not worry about what to tell or what not to tell the Orc.

Bilbo took a gulp of her wine and allowed herself a moment to compose herself.

She told him everything.

-To Be Continued-

* * *

><p><strong>Dun dun dun. <strong>

**Awe isn't Azog a lovely attentive sort? And talk about a psycho Captain of the Guard huh ;)**

**So the time had come for Bilbo to spill the beans. And just what is the deal with Azog? Well, wouldn't you want to know ;)**


	14. Darkness is Rising

Azog had finally worked his way from standing somewhere behind her and snarling to sitting on the rug covered floor with his back against the bench by her legs. And snarling. Always snarling. She couldn't really expect anything less under the circumstances. He had moved the whole time with such a predatory steadiness that Bilbo couldn't even remember when he had sat down.

The only interruptions to her story were his growls, which she ignored in favour of continuing her tale.

"**The wizard wants the Dwarves to kill the dragon?**" he spoke once she had reached the end of her story and he had stopped chuckling at the image of the Dwarves falling into the trap.

"**Mmm, or at least to determine if it still lives,**" she swished the last of her wine around the glass and downed it in one, placing the glass on the floor and settling back into the furs.

Azog chuckled darkly into his goblet, shaking his head and taking a gulp.

"**What of the pack that followed us into Elrond's lands?**" she asked, reminding him of that part of the story and glad to finally have the opportunity to know just what had happened to cause the Company to be hunted the way they had been.

Azog tensed, the muscles in his back knotting and his fingers curling tightly about the goblet until the wood protested.

"**Yazneg,**" he rumbled.

Bilbo frowned and tried to think through the pleasant fig created by the wine… Yazneg? Yazneg? Yazneg?

She should know that name…

"**Yazneg?**"

He turned from the fire and presented her with a sharp toothed grin. The gleam in his eyes was sharper than his teeth.

"**My gift,**"

_My gift?_

Oh. She remembered who he was now.

He was Azog's second in command... There was some sort of title for him but Bilbo just felt glad remembering who he was. What he had been was irrelevant.

"**Your...**" Oh bother. Not so irrelevant after all... Captain. Captain was a good a title as any.

"**Your captain was the spy?**" she asked in horror, her wine loosened tongue tripping over some of the words.

She wasn't drunk. She just hadn't realised how tired she was for the alcohol to effect her so strongly.

Azog was very careful about who he surrounded himself with. He was more than aware of the dangers of allowing someone too close who was not deserving of the positions That this Yazneg had managed to get himself so much into her husband's good graces (not that he had any) was shocking to her.

Azog grunted in acknowledgement.

The Orc never was one for speaking if one noise would accomplish the same as a sentence.

But what did that have to do with –

Oh.

Everything fell into place in her mind.

The Company being hunted across the plains. The Orcs foolishly pursuing them into Elf territory despite everyone knowing the terms of the treaty. Yazneg being the spy…

"**He led the pack into Elf territory knowing what would happen,**"

It had been no accident. No indiscretion caused by the rush of the hunt.

"**Some of my best were in the party,**" Azog grumbled, "**The fool returned to tell me they had been ambushed by Elves and all had died,**" he laughed darkly, "**He should have checked. One still lived,**"

One of the pack had survived the Elves? That was a miracle in itself. Lord Elrond's archers were deadly accurate with their arrows.

"**Was he injured**?"

Azog snorted at her enquiry, no doubt finding it irrelevant. He answered her all the same.

"**He will live,**"

Well, that was reassuring.

"**He limped into camp days before Yazneg and told all,**"

"**Days?**" she asked.

"**Reporting to his master**," Azog threw the goblet into the fire. The flames snapped and crackled as the remnants of ale blistered and boiled. The flames licked greedily at the fine wood of the goblet.

"Well," she huffed, getting to her feet to retrieve another goblet and fill it with more ale. After Azog had emptied some into the goblet the first time around she should be able to lift the jug now. She hoped. She scooped up her empty wine glass also, "**I hope you got some information out of him before you threw him to the wargs**?"

She returned to her seat quickly - if a little unsteadily - and handed the Orc a newly refilled goblet. She hoped this one would be meeting the same fate as the first. They were fine work. Too good to be thrown on the fire in such a careless way. She glanced into the fire and saw that none of the fine wood was left in the midst of the flames.

Azog sat quietly and she began to grow nervous.

"**Azog**," it was almost impossible to speak softly, consolingly, in Black Speech but never let it be said that Bilbo Baggins didn't try, "**Who was he spying for?**"

"**Bolg,**"

The one word answer told her a multitude of things. She knew that Azog and his son were not on the best of terms – they had parted ways long before her birth – but that his son would have someone so close to Azog spy on him was a little hard for Bilbo to grasp. After all what would he accomplish? Did he want Yazneg to kill his father? There must have been countless chances for Yazneg to plant a sword in Azog's back…

"'**My master serves the one,'**"

Bilbo froze at the words. She didn't know what they meant but they sounded terrifying as Azog spoke them with an unemotional tone.

"**What?**"

"**That was his words before I took his skull in my hand,**" Bilbo watched him raise the hand with the goblet and squeeze. She had a feeling she would be waving goodbye to another cup before the evening was out.

She nearly spilled her wine in fright when he jerked forward with his other arm and pantomimed stabbing someone with it and throwing them away.

"**He spoke no more filth after that,**"

"**If,**" she steadied herself after the sudden scare he had given her by shifting into another position on the bench. She scooted to the far side and swung her legs up and into the empty space. It allowed her a better view of her husband if anything, "**Bolg is his master, then who is 'the one'?**" she asked curiously, but suspecting she would be much happier not knowing.

A darkness had been rising. Drawing all the weak willed and evil to it.

"**You arrive in the middle of a tale little one,**" he told her.

She quirked an eyebrow at this. Speaking in riddles was not a habit of her husband. He was one of the most straight forward people she knew…in a skewer first ask questions later kind of way.

"**He was meant to be bound, never to be able to rise again and yet it has happened,**"

Bound?

"**Is this 'one' the reason for the clans splitting?**" she asked, trying to wrap her mind around what she was being told. Trying to understand something centuries older than herself.

"**They fear and so they serve,**" he growled at the fire, taking a deep drink of his ale.

She could understand serving a master through fear to a certain extent but…

She wiggled forward on her seat and resting her elbows on her knees perched her chin on her hands. Bilbo narrowed her eyes as she looked at her husband. This was a side of him she could not remember ever seeing before. He looked almost contemplative as he gazed into the fire. The flames illuminated his pale skin and the crack and crevices of the scars that decorated his face and chest.

"**Who are they serving?**"

"**Sauron,**"

-To Be Continued-

* * *

><p><strong>PLOT IS NOW HAPPENING!<strong>

**So, this answers the question of Bolg's parentage that some of you have brought up. No. Bilbo is not his mother. :)**

**See you with the next chapter you awesome people, you :)**


	15. Sleep

"**The wizard has a feel for the evil things in this land,**" Azog trailed off and Bilbo remained silent, trying to think through what her husband had just told her.

The most evil, wicked being imaginable – thought to have been rendered incapable of causing mischief ages ago – was stirring and had an army of countless dark creatures willing to carry out his bidding.

Did Gandalf know just to what extent things had deteriorated or was taking care of the dragon more of a precaution than anything else?

Heavens, if Smaug did side with this dark lord there would be no hope for them. After all even the mighty Thranduil had turned his back on the desolation the Dragon had wrought to Erebor.

There was no alternative…

"**I will speak with Gandalf,**" she braced herself, "**And Thorin,**" her husband snarled.

"**They need to know,**" she tried to speak softly, convincingly…but the truth was she was frightened, terrified even of the story Azog had told her. She slid from her bench and onto the floor beside her husband, reassured by his strong, solid presence and leaned against his arm.

He remained still and silent for some time. Just watching the fir. And then with no warning at all she was in his lap and looking straight into his white, scarred face, made all the more frightening by the dancing firelight.

"**You believe it to be wise?**"

Bilbo nodded and planted her hands on his shoulders to straighten herself. Honestly, just being swept up in such a way was not terribly comfortable.

"**I do,**"

He stared at her and she nervously began to run her fingers – soothingly she hoped – along his neck and then up to his ears. She gently traced the lobes and then up to the ragged point – one of the only remnants of what he had once been, so long ago.

"**Should it come to was,**" which she feared it would if things continued at the pace they were at, "**would an alliance not be beneficial?**" she asked.

He snarled, baring his teeth at her but she wasn't worried. She knew _that _snarl. It was the one he flashed at her when he knew she was right and he wasn't happy about it.

With his one hand he grasped her own, lowering it from his head and just holding it in his large paw. She could feel the cold metal of his other arm against her back through the layers of her gown as he supported her. Despite his threats of having her head she knew he wouldn't hurt her.

"**Very well,**" he grunted, not meeting her eyes as he continued to study her hand…well, their hands. He ran his large digits along her own, circled her wrist and seemed fascinated with her veins.

"**You have your way all too often, little one,**"

She snorted in amusement at this and taking her free hand which had remained on his neck she touched his cheek to draw his attention from her hand and to her face.

He finally looked up after taking his own sweet time. He had obviously decided she _had_ had her own way a little too much this evening.

"**Only when I am right, yes?**"

He chuckled and without as much as a by your leave she found herself once again being manhandled.

This time she was laid before the fire on the thick rug, she sunk into the warm fur and her hands automatically touched the soft fibre. She remained still as Azog threw a few more logs onto the fire – she knew the caves would grow terribly chilly within minutes of the fire dying but she hoped to be asleep by then – and then tugged some of the pelts and cushions from the bench and onto the floor.

In no time at all he had a little nest prepared from them and was tugging her to his chest.

It was obviously bed time then.

Well really!

"**Really Azog,**" she groaned, "**There is a bed just over-**"

He drew her tighter against him, effectively silencing her.

"**Sleep,**" he rumbled.

He had her pressed so tightly against him she could feel the word through his chest and into her back.

"**Very well,**" she grouched, "**But tomorrow we sleep in the bed,**"

A grunt was her only reply.

Shifting herself slightly and adjusting her gown – to blazes with the man he would have her go to bed without letting her change – so it didn't twist so uncomfortably about her legs she snuggled in to sleep and tried to put all thought of Dark Lords and Dwarves to the back of her mind.

She fell asleep to the thrumming of her husband's heart.

* * *

><p>Bilbo didn't know just how long she had slept for but the still flickering flames told her it had not been that long.<p>

With the heavy arm of her husband wrapped about her middle she was unable to move so she lay in the darkness and watched the fire as one by one the flames grew smaller and died. Until nothing but glowing embers was left in the fire.

Her mind refused to quiet.

Everything she had been told, everything she had thought, all of the fears she had been trying to hide or force down over she couldn't remember how long flooded her and allowed her to rest now that she was once again awake.

How could it be that she of all people was in the situation that she was in now?

Of course she knew that if it wasn't her it would just be someone else and if it wasn't now it would be another time, but still! Why her and why now?

She shifted slightly in Azog's hold so that she was more curled into him than towards the now dead fire and sighed.

Like all women she supposed when she had been young she had daydreamed of her future spouse.

When she was young and – she would readily admit – a bit of an idiot when it came to such things, she had dreamed of falling in love. Of a burning passion that would eclipse all else. Of someone dark, handsome and brooding. Just the way she had imagined the heroes in the old tales to be. Like some of the rangers she had sometimes caught site of.

Someone like…

Bilbo sighed.

Someone just like Thorin.

Oh yes, every inch of his brooding, stubborn Dwarven self, matched her girlhood dreams of her future spouse.

Someone who was the very opposite of the plodding, steady, and to her younger self boring Hobbits about her.

And then she had grown and by the time she had reached her coming of age her thoughts of a future husband and drifted towards someone smiling and happy. Someone who would be a good husband and an excellent father to their children.

Someone who would try to make her smile when she was sad. Someone who she would feel a little flutter in her chest when she succeeded in doing the same to him, or when they shared a joke.

Someone like Bofur.

Yes, it was indeed funny how life turned out.

Fate had really outdone herself where Bilbo was concerned.

The body behind her pulled her closer to its chest and she went willingly, snuggling into the broad chest and shifting about again so that her head was the only thing above the mismatched pile of furs that was covering her.

Her life hadn't turned out how she had expected but she was content with her lot.

She closed her eyes and tried once again to forget…

-To Be Continued-

* * *

><p><strong>Hi guys! I am so sorry for the delay with this chapter. The bug I had hovered and hovered until it turned into a full blown infection so I have been feeling pretty down the past wee while. <strong>

**I really hope you enjoyed this chapter, I know it was a lot of thinking but I wanted to get in a little bit more Azog/Bilbo interaction. **

**The Dwarves (or Thorin at least) will be back in the next chapter).**

**:) **


	16. Waking

Bilbo woke when the tight hold on her body was released and her weight was dropped fully onto the furs beneath her. She opened her eyes, unwilling to wake but panicing for a second when she couldn't remember where she was.

The room – it was a room, yes? – was dark and cold. She could smell the stale smell of wood smoke and over that the smell of burnt oil and wax.

Slowly and sleep addled she connected the pieceS and remembered where she was.

She was no longer in Bag End, or on the road with a Company of smelly, groaning Dwarves and one wizard (she couldn't forget about Gandalf now could she), or even in the fine room at Rivendell.

No, she was back home. Back in the Misty Mountains. And she had fallen asleep in the arms of her husband… And she had a lot to do today.

Bilbo wished she had managed to stay asleep and blissfully unaware a little bit longer.

As soon as she remembered everything her heart began to beat in her chest and her stomach began to churn.

She really hoped her Captain of the Guard had carried out her instructions and taken the Company to the spare caverns – she called them 'guest rooms' but she was more than aware that they were just glorified storage rooms (she should really do something about that) – and fed them (even if it was just half rations like Azog had insisted on it would be better than nothing on an empty stomach).

She felt Azog shift and the heat of his body left hers entirely as he stood and left the room, no doubt to check on his men and the wargs.

She remained a few minutes longer in the heat of the furs before finally building up the nerve to face the cold and wash. There was no chance of her getting back to sleep anyway.

She stood slowly, aching all over. Even if it was covered in furs, she had still spent the night on the floor and she was paying for it now.

The wretched man! This was all his fault!

She hobbled to the entrance of her chambers, banging into some of the furniture in the darkness.

Bilbo squinted as pain lanced through her eyes at the orange light of the burning torches set into the walls of the passage.

Bravely – she thought – she lowered the hand she had slapped over her eyes and scanned the shadows for the guards she knew her Captain would have posted in case she needed them.

She found them, but only because they shifted away from the wall at the sight of her. They straightened their hunched forms as much as they could, their chests puffed out and their hands on their weapons.

Ready and at attention.

She smiled tiredly, thanked them for their service of the night and sent one of them scampering off to find some maids – or what passed as maids in the Misty Mountains – to bring hot water.

While Azog was gone she peeled herself free from her gown and washed in the water that was brought for her and thought of just what she was going to say to Thorin now that the time was at hand.

Azog strode back into her private chamber just as she was straightening up from roughly rubbing at her hair with a length of linen. She really needed to give it a trim, with her head upside down like it had been the tips had nearly touched the floor.

She grimaced as her still damp hair splatted against her back and the water soaked through her shift. The maids had coaxed the fire to life one again but it would take more time than she had to be in the room for the temperature to rise to a bearable level.

Bilbo nodded to her husband but otherwise ignored him as she continued to ready herself with care and precision.

Her gown of the day before was past redemption and wouldn't be fit to be worn again until it had been given a good soaking and hung to allow the creases to drop out of it. She blamed Azog completely for the state of her favourite gown. If the silly man hadn't made her sleep in it she would have been able to wear it again but not now.

She liked that dress. It gave her confidence and made her feel regal. It had been a gift from Lord Elrond and had boning in the bodice, making her walk straight and tall…

But there was no point in thinking on that. She was stuck wearing something else that while equally lovely to look at didn't make her feel the same. Which was a shame because she had a feeling that she would need all of the confidence (begged, borrowed or stolen) she could get her hands on for the interview that was about to take place.

She tied herself into the gown she decided on and noted the appreciative glance Azog gave the intricate leather work that overlaid the front of the gown from hips to bust. Her back straightened at this and she smiled.

She made quick work of gathering her still damp curls high onto the back of her head and only succeeded in pinning some of them up, the rest fell curling around her ears and over the curves of her 'crown' in damp ringlets.

She glanced into the mirror and admired her work.

With her hair escaping its confines and her favourite gown laying in a creased pile on her bed she found her reflection lacking.

She wanted to look the part of a queen, a ruler of a realm. A strong ruler. A knowing ruler. All she saw was Bilbo Baggins looking back at her and no amount of finery or clothes would change that. She remembered dressing in her mother's clothes as a child… This was what she felt like now as she looked in the mirror. She was just an imposter in borrowed clothes.

She struggled to recapture the feeling of power she had revelled in the night before as she stood before the shocked company… But it was lost…

What was she going to say to Thorin to convince him? Or Gandalf?

She looked away from her own reflection when Azog stepped into her line of sight. His massive frame taking up the whole of the glass.

She would have laughed at his having to duck to see his face in the glass if she wasn't truly terrified of meeting with Thorin.

"**Your armour suits you well, wife,"** her husband hissed at her back and he dropped to his knees behind her.

Her armour?

She went to turn and face him but his huge hands closing on her waist stopped her.

Her eyes met his in the glass and he nodded his head as she felt his fingers trace the small patterns etched into the leather over her ribs.

He pulled her backwards, holding her tightly against chest, making her stand straighter…prouder.

"**You are queen," **he hissed behind her, his eyes never leaving hers.

I am queen. I am queen. I am queen.

Bilbo felt ill.

Food. That's what she needed. She was a Hobbit and no decent, self-respecting Hobbit could be expected to take on the task she was about to with an empty stomach.

"**Yes I am," **she snarled back, **"And this queen needs breakfast,"**

-To Be Continued-

**Hi guys. **

**So Bilbo shows her girly side in this chapter. But you've got to admit that to go and face a bunch of grumpy Dwarves you've got to feel kick butt in what you are wearing yeah? And besides, she has had a lot to deal with :).**

**I have covered the slightly dark and unhinged aspect of Azog so now I was just wanting to play with the lighter side. Although he is still very much an Orc he has a soft spot for Bilbo.**

**See you with chapter 17.**

**PS – I hope everyone is having a happy and safe holiday. Take care. **


	17. The Audience

Bilbo had delayed the meeting for as long as she could manage. She had taken her time having breakfast – although truth be told she had only picked at the food her Goblins had provided her with (it was her favourites too, bless their hearts) – had drank more than one cup of tea (that had been no hardship, the fine delicate Elven brew went down a treat in the morning) and had taken care of several pressing matters that had been neglected during her absence.

Goblins – young and old – were going missing in the lower tunnels and it was concerning. Accidents happened, of course they did, but that was in the mines not when going from point a to point b. She had told the guards to spread the word that all were to travel through the mountain in pairs at the very least. It was only a precaution and would not solve the issue entirely until they found what was leading to the disappearances, but it would do for now.

The mountains were vast on the outside but in the inside they were a labyrinth and it frightened her to think that something could be lurking in the tunnels and picking off the Goblins unlucky enough to cross it's path.

Inventories of the food stores had been brought to her, as well as the mining reports and all was running smoothly – although they would need to restock with the perishable vegetables soon. A trading delegation would be due in a month or so and looking at the numbers scratched into the slate handed to her they would just last that long. The Giant's would be finished with their battling by then and it would be safe once again for travelers.

Bilbo had even penned a letter to Lord Elrond, explaining just why an Orc band had crossed the treaty line.

She had glanced over at her husband – standing with his dagger in his hand and running the blade beneath his nails – and frowned.

**"There are no other treaty violations I should be aware of?**"

He looked away from his hands and she narrowed her eyes at him.

**"Are there?"** she asked, icily.

How was she supposed to build any kind of relationship with the other rulers if the treaties were continually being broken by fools who couldn't control themselves? She knew it was in their nature and she shouldn't really blame them, but it made things so difficult.

**"No, wife,"** he had told her, returning to his claws…

Bilbo had continued to drag her feet until she knew she was being ridiculous.

So she had finally taken her courage in both hands and had Thorin sent for and brought to her private audience chamber.

Bilbo was no judge when it came to caves – one was pretty much the same as the next in her eyes – but even she would admit that her audience chamber was one of the more depressing caverns in the whole mountain range. Unlike her private chambers, which were small and cosy, this was stark.

There was a chair upon a platform for her to sit on, a fireplace and poles with burning torches dotted about strategically to light the space and that was all.

Right now she sat with her Captain of the Guard standing ever present slightly behind her and Azog standing to the side, towering over them all, and observed two of her guests.

Bilbo's head was throbbing - a familiar malady when in the presence of Thorin Oakenshield she had found over the past weeks – and they hadn't even started talking yet.

The throne-less king was standing stubbornly silent and glowering before her. His dark mood making him appear to fill the whole of the audience chamber.

Gandalf – of course he had managed to talk Thorin into allowing him to come to this interview – was standing to the side of him, sans staff, she noted thankfully, and no doubt plotting something. The wizard's eyes were dimmer than Bilbo was used to seeing them, and his wrinkles more pronounced as he narrowed his gaze upon her.

She snuffed out the desire to shift like the child she had once been in his eyes and glanced to either side of her chair as Azog and her Captain moved closer to her. It seemed that they were not blind to the wizards look either.

She was a queen and all of her actions were for the benefit of her people and she did not need Gandalf the Grey to approve of her.

Bilbo sighed inwardly.

She knew she was lying to herself. Gandalf would always be someone whose approval she desired… But in this case she would do without it if she had to.

"**Should I tear out the Wizard's eyes wife?"** Azog hissed by her ear, bending slightly.

She nearly giggled as his breath brushed again her skin and tickled her ear. She bit her cheek to put a rapid halt to that inappropriate (under the circumstances) response and shook her head in refusal of the offer.

There had been a time when such things had truly troubled her but she had grown used to the strange way he had of showing his concern.

She brushed her fingers against his arm in silent thanks for his support, however disturbing it may be to others. She could feel the warmth of his skin through her customary gloves and wondered how he managed to stay so warm. The cold of the mountains always made her feel as though she was just on the brink of shivering, even with her gloves.

She noticed both Thorin and Gandalf had shifted their gazes and they stared in disgusted fascination at her hand.

Bilbo pulled away from the Orc slowly and replaced her hand on the smooth wood of the chair. She had nothing to hide or be ashamed of but she was not used to such scrutiny. She didn't like it. She rallied her control lest Azog bypass asking her opinion and go straight to the plucking of eyes.

"I hope-" she cleared her throat, her voice sounding high and nervous even to her own ears. This would never do.

"I hope," that was better, "that my guards have been treating you well, and that none of you were injured in anyway by the," she waved her hand around, "fall,"

It was Gandalf who answered while Thorin remained stubbornly silent, jerking his arm free from the grip of the Goblin at his side only to have it taken hold of again.

She thought to warn him that if the draft changed direction his face would be stuck like that but thought better of it.

Beside it mattered little. She very rarely saw him with any expression other than sour on his face. It may well save him energy to have it fixed into place.

"Yes, thank you my dear, none of the Company were injured," Gandalf cast a frown at Thorin – the kind one would level at a rebellious toddler - before looking back at her, "although the food was a little…lacking,"

Biblo only quirked an eyebrow at this, daring Gandalf to continue. Her look, surprisingly, silenced him.

She was glad that none of them were hurt - especially the younger members of the Company – and even if the food was 'lacking' (oh, her Hobbit sensibilities bristled at this insult and he knew it!) it was better than nothing. And under the circumstances they were all fortunate to be alive. Azog would have thrown them all from the platform the night before without batting an eye lid had she not intervened.

She was not happy with Gandalf's presence, she had hoped to speak with her mother's old friend in private but it looked like she would not get her wish.

Bilbo looked at Thorin.

He looked well enough, his frown was in fine form and his eyes were shooting sparks at her as if he would stop her heart then and there if he could.

Yes, he was just fine.

It would be a miracle if the stubborn fool listened to her at all. Maybe she should have requested Gandalf's presence first and explained things. She could hardly imagine Thorin badgering Gandalf into bringing him along. Maybe then Gandalf could have talked to Thorin.

No.

Thorin was the leader. The future king of Erebor if they succeeded with their quest and she would not speak to him through a wizard who worked to his own motives.

"I asked you here for a reason," she cleared her throat and took a breath, "An alliance,"

Bilbo had thought she had seen the Company's fearless leader angry before but this was something entirely new.

Thorin Oakenshield seemed to explode in front of her.

Oh dear. Perhaps she could have gone about that a bit differently and really, did Thorin have to be so insulting with his…his…insults!

Azog stepped down from his place at her side and rounded on the Dwarf who was abandoned by his Goblin guard as soon as her husband began his approach. Clever one that.

Her husband did a bit of exploding of his own.

Bilbo balled up her hands and walloped the armrests on either side of her with her gloved fists.

Oh rot!

-To Be Continued-

**Oh dear, moody Dwarves would give me a headache too I think :)**

**Thank you again everyone for all of your reviews! You are all so encouraging!**

**:)**


	18. A Meddling Wizard

Bilbo pinched her nose and breathed. Just breathed, as Azog and Thorin glared at one another and threw insults.

She placed a hand on her Captain's arm as he moved to intervene and shook her head. She wouldn't have him or any of the guards put in danger at the moment.

"Have a table brought in here and the midday meal," it had to be near lunchtime - hopefully, "brought when it is prepared,"

"Yes, Majesty," the Goblin bowed.

"The rest of the Dwarves are to be brought here also,"

Her Captain did not approve of this and he made little secret of his feelings.

"They will be guarded well,"

Bilbo sighed but nodded. There was no point in arguing over such a thing if it made the Goblin happy.

Besides, they may well need the extra guards to tear Azog and Thorin from each other's throats if they continued on the way they were.

While her Captain spoke to one of his underlings she looked back to the Orc and the Dwarf who were currently snarling insults at each other in their native tongues.

She was impressed with Azog's self-control. Usually he would have had the offender by the throat at this point but it seemed he was content using his words – a rare event indeed – for the time being.

It was amusing in a way to watch them spit and snarl, the difference in their statures almost comical under the circumstances. Her husband, tall, broad and as pale as death. Thorin, perhaps tall for a Dwarf, perhaps broad for a Dwarf and dressed in his dark leather and furs. Both of them equally enraged. It didn't matter what Thorin was 'for a Dwarf' thought, in comparison to Azog he looked like an enraged child throwing a tantrum.

She recalled Thorin struggling to be free of Balin and Dwalin the night before and shook her head again at the ridiculous man. Ignoring the fact that Azog was in the company of several of his men who would not have stood by and watched as someone tried to kill their leader, her husband could crush the Dwarf without a second thought.

The fight continued.

She had not sent for Thorin to have them argue and insult one another, and, as one of the Goblins went scuttling from the room to carry out her orders. she decided she did not want the rest of the Company shown into the room while their leader and her husband beat their chests at one another – what sort of example would that be?

"I do not ask," she shouted, the steel in her voice finally bringing the bickering to an end and both men looked towards her, "that you be bosom friends for the rest of your days," even she wasn't optimistic enough to think that the years of animosity and hate between the two men could be swept under the carpet. After all, Thorin had spent longer than she had lived hating Azog.

She softened her voice now that all was quiet.

"All I ask, is that we form an alliance for as long as is needed and then we can see to the treaties. That is all,"

"Treaties with an Orc," Thorin snapped incredulously, "I might as well put my hand in a wolf's mouth and expect it not to bite me,"

Azog hissed something under his breath in reply to this, something that Bilbo didn't catch but she was sure it was anything but complementary.

She shot him a withering look. Honestly she needed them to act with some sort of decorum and as the leaders that they were instead of the children they currently acted like.

"Bilbo is correct," Gandalf spoke up from where he had made himself comfortable on one of the steps beneath her chair – several guards hovering worriedly about him.

She breathed steadily. She did not want Thorin to agree to what she proposed just because Gandalf and his meddling ways convinced him – begrudgingly though it would be – to do so.

Azog bared his teeth at the wizard but remained silent, opting to come and stand by her once again. He had to walk passed Gandalf on the step as he did so and she was proud of her husband for avoiding the wizard and not giving into the temptation that was no doubt burning within him to purposefully knock the other man over.

"Why would I need to form an alliance with," Thorin looked her up and down and she felt about an inch tall, "you?"

The arrival of the requested table gave her some time to think.

This was why she had wanted to speak with Gandalf separately and tell him of what they knew.

She sat back in her chair and looked at the Dwarf and the Wizard who had got up from his spot on the step when Azog had come to her side. No doubt having the Orc at his back was making him nervous.

"You know the dangers Smaug presents, do you not Gandalf?" Gandalf seemed startled at being addressed and she looked at him, waiting for a reply.

"Smaug?" Thorin scoffed, "The dragon has not been seen in years. He is no doubt dead, rotting in Erebor and being feasted on by rats,"

What a lovely image that conjured?

"**Fool,"** Azog snarled.

She was inclined to agree. While she did not have first-hand experience with the beasts she had read of them and she knew they were long lived. Perhaps as long as Elves. For a creature that size, sixty years could be nothing but a catnap.

She ignored Thorin and waited for Gandalf.

"What do you know of this?" he asked her softly, his eyes old.

More than she wanted to, that was for certain. If ignorance was bliss then she would have been in paradise not knowing of the dark things in this world.

"There are shadows, Gandalf," she whispered her eyes never leaving his, "And these shadows are growing. You," she glanced to Thorin, "may well be grateful of an alliance, believe me,"

The Wizard took a wobbly step forwards. Unsure of his motives her Captain tensed and moved to stand between her and the man.

She needed to speak with Gandalf. She was not happy with sending Thorin from the room like a child not old enough to hear adults talk but there was no way around it now.

"Leave us," she gestured to the entrance as her Captain turned.

"I wish to have a private audience with the Wizard, I shall call when we are ready,"

Grumbling and frowning her Captain grunted for the room to be emptied and taking Thorin roughly by the arm marched the struggling Dwarf from the chamber.

Silence fell between them and all that she could hear over the thumping of her own pulse in her ears was the breathing of Azog who had remained stoically by her side.

Gandalf looked almost nervous as his eyes darted between her and Azog until his eyes settled on her.

"I have a story to tell you Gandalf,"

-To Be Continued-

**Dun dun dun!**

**I really hope this isn't coming across too melodramatic…**

**See you later! :)**


	19. A Chat

Bilbo new that her relationship with her husband was not exactly…conventional. There was genuine feeling there. She cared for the Orc (and his band) and she was loyal to him, just as she believed he cared for her in his own way and was loyal to her.

It was hard to explain to someone who had not been there through it all just how things had come about the way they had. Just how she had come to be not only the queen of the Goblins but the wife of one of the most feared individuals in Middle Earth. But she tried her best to tell Gandalf how things had happened.

The truth was, that at the end of the day it had all boiled down to necessity and survival.

On both their parts.

Azog had cared to have no master and so he had broken from the one who had created him, who had forged him anew from the being he had once been. In doing so he took some with him but not many. Over the years he was joined by others who drew away from their master.

They could not find peace though. After all. They were Orcs, feared and hated by all.

So they lived as they could until they finally settled in Moria, hoping the Darkness present there would ward off the other.

But soon the Orcs who had drifted from the Dark began to drift back again.

"We needed to show a united front," Bilbo gulped, "To boost moral if you will,"

Gandalf was looking terribly pale. She hoped he wasn't going to do anything silly like fall over, she was very nearly finished with her explanation.

"My Goblins are a breed of Orc," she added as a side note, "Did you know that?"

There was no response from the wizard.

This little bit of knowledge had terrified her initially. Her books of history and even children's tales were brimming with Goblins coming across you in the mountains and eating you. Because of this it had taken her some time to get used to the idea that she was the ruler of such creatures. And then she had joined with Azog and she her history had experienced a brushing up through her husband.

Being a queen of Goblins was one thing, and she had gotten used to it. But to find that she was fundamentally a queen of Orcs had sent her into a panic and looking back she was ashamed of her reaction.

But just like with all things that she had faced she had got on with things and decided that it didn't matter if they were Goblins or Orcs she was responsible for them and she would do her best by them.

"Yes, they are," she continued as if the wizard _had _made a reply, "Somehow or another they too broke away – in a fashion – and became their own little kingdom," she trailed off thoughtfully but quickly got back on track when her stomach rumbled.

"It is hard to be a race that all others revile, Gandalf," she whispered, beginning to wring her hands in agitation.

Gandalf still looked like the draught would knock him over any minute. A wilfully silent Gandalf was a very nerve disconcerting sight.

"One of the first," Gandalf spoke so softly, more to himself than to them, that Bilbo had to hold her breath to hear him.

"One of the first to be…" he trailed of, his eyes wide and fixed intently on Azog, pale with shock.

Bilbo turned and looked up at her husband. He was still beside her, as tall and steady as ever but his stillness was unnerving as he kept his gaze forward.

Bilbo had sometimes wondered what her husband had looked like before he had been tortured and changed into his current state. She was not blind to his tall muscled figure and she could admit that he was magnificent to look upon...in a monstrous way. But what he would have looked like as he was born to be…He would have been a beautiful warrior she had no doubt…a fair one.

She cleared her throat.

Whatever her husband had once been she lived under no illusions of what he was now and that was the end of it.

He was what eons of time, wars and struggles had made him.

She had given Gandalf the information he needed of the past and now it was time to deal with the present and hopefully the future.

"I know why you fear the dragon. He is dangerous and an unknown, with no ties to anyone. There would be nothing to worry over-" she raised a hand, halting anything Gandalf was about to say. The wizard looked put out – not used to being silenced in such a way – but his mouth closed with an audible clank of teeth, she was glad he wasn't standing quiet and shocked anymore "but an old enemy is rising and you cannot risk the dragon siding with that one,"

Gandalf's eyes opened even wider at this.

"There have been grumblings for some time now, but it was not until recently," meaning yesterday, "that we know what we faced,"

She tried to organise her rushing thoughts and failed.

She glanced to her husband, looking up at him and silently begging him to pick up where she left off. She knew Gandalf understood Black Speech so there was no reason why Azog could not complete the explanation.

Bilbo didn't feel like she was qualified to talk about these things. All she knew was what Azog had told her and then the stories that were told to frighten children around campfires. She had no first-hand knowledge. What if she missed something vital out of the telling?

Azog looked down on her. If her husband was someone else and prone to such actions she would have sworn she heard him give a sigh of exasperation as he looked to the wizard and took up the tale.

**Hi everyone. **

**Tada. I am sorry this chapter took so long to get up. I spent more time pruning this chapter than writing it I think. I didn't want it (or the next chapter) to turn into too much of an info dumping session. **

**So in my head (for this story) Azog was one of the first Orcs ever 'made' which is why he is taller, stronger etc etc than all of the other Orcs under his command. Just an idea :). I have been dropping wee hints along the way ;)**

**All of your feedback is wonderful!**

**x**


	20. A Quiet Argument

The talk was over and the revelations finished (for the time being) and Gandalf in his wisdom, had announced that yes, something must be done about the situation.

She had watched with no little amusement as Gandalf – without so much as a 'by your leave' – strode to the entrance of the cavern and called for Thorin to enter once again.

Bilbo had no doubt that if she had not dismissed all of her Guards there would be more than one twitchy spear hand ready to let fly towards the Wizard. But as it stood the only thing he had to worry about was not tripping over his own feet in his haste to bring the Dwarf back into the room.

The Wizard was a fool if he thought Thorin would be stepping anywhere near the entrance of the cave without her say so.

She only just managed to stifle a giggle of delight at Gandalf's look of ire as he turned to look at her.

"My dear Bilbo, please explain to your –" he paused, seeming to be struggling for the right word.

She quirked an eyebrow at him, letting him know he had best chose his words carefully.

"Guards-" he finally settled for, "that Master Oakenshield can enter the …uh…" he cast an eye about the cave, "room,"

There was a moment of silence that was surprisingly broken by her husband.

"**Allow him entrance!**" he shouted, the snarl echoing about the cavern. The last ghostly words hadn't even faded yet before Thorin was escorted into the cave by several members of her guard. Two at each of his arms and one ready to plant a spear into the nearest bit of him if he attempted anything.

The 'anything' was what worried her. Her 'anything' and her guards 'anything' were two different things. The only thing Thorin was safe doing until the guards left was breathing. And even then it wasn't a sure thing.

"**Leave him!**" her husband's growl had her Goblins tensing but looking to her for confirmation, twitching uncomfortably from one foot to the other but holding their ground. She nodded her head and they released Thorin and returned to their posts outside – with a little more enthusiasm than was strictly necessary.

Bilbo watched as Gandalf took hold of one of Thorin's freshly freed elbows and led him to what she could only assume he thought was a more 'private' spot, when in fact it was only several yards away from her. It was a cave with one piece of furniture – well, two now counting the table. Privacy wasn't exactly something it was formed to accommodate.

As she watched Gandalf begin to explain to Thorin the turn in events with much gesticulating on both sides she thought over their conversation.

The wizard had revealed some information of his own. In the midst of the current fuss Bilbo was ashamed to admit that she had forgotten all about the council meeting Lord Elrond had alluded to. And then there had been the wizard with the stick insect in his mouth (Bilbo's throat tickled and flexed in revulsion just at the memory of the insect sitting on the man's tongue) and his private word with Gandalf.

More pieces had come together and Azog had told Gandalf that his friend was very fortunate to be alive after venturing to the ancient fortress. The ruins were not as empty as they appeared to be… Information gained from her 'present' apparently.

Gandalf was less than happy about the council's reaction to his news from Radagast and Bilbo had had a hard time controlling her eyebrows when he suggested Azog accompanying him to Rivendell as some kind of proof.

Azog had chuckled dryly in amusement and Bilbo only just stopped herself from doing the same thing. The very idea was ludicrous.

All treaties were brokered through her and made it perfectly clear that under no circumstances or under any pretence were Orcs to cross the borders agreed upon. If they did the penalty would be dealt swiftly and without question – something the traitor had taken full advantage of.

With Gandalf by his side or not an arrow would be through Azog's eye before she could say 'blame the wizard'.

No. Azog accompanying Gandalf to parlay with the Council was not an option.

"**Are you still so sure of your decision, wife?**" Azog's voice brought her from her thoughts and after casting a quick look towards the still arguing Gandalf and Thorin she looked to her husband who was standing in front of her.

Bilbo allowed herself a few moments pause to appreciate the figure her husband made standing in the flickering flames from the torches.

While terrifying there was a definitely a certain beauty to his form.

He was glaring at the arguing men, his back straight and arms folded across his chest.

The disagreement was becoming all the louder and the gesticulating more violent. In fact she wouldn't be at all surprised if Thorin went for Gandalf and got him firmly by the throat. But then she doubted Gandalf would ever shuffle from existence by such a mediocre way as strangulation. No. dragon fire was more his way to go, she thought acidly.

"**I am beginning to question it,**" she grumbled in reply, slouching to the side, leaning her elbow on the armrest of her chair and propping her chin in her hand.

She sighed heavily, something she would usually not even consider doing in the presence of others but she didn't worry about her 'guests' hearing her at the moment. They were too busy trying to argue. Quietly. They were failing miserably.

Thorin was not happy. In fact he looked more than ready to begin smoking in his boots with his fury.

Now he was growling in Khuzdul, shooting out the harsh words like he was hoping they themselves would cause injury.

"Enough!" roared Gandalf so loudly and suddenly it made her jump in her seat.

The torches flared and fluttered from the power radiating from the angry Wizard until they settled down once again to a steady burn.

The dispute was rapidly brought to a close after that and the two men approached her. Thorin somewhat subdued but still scowling as he stomped over in his horrid boots.

How on earth did the Company manage in them? Against all Hobbit sense she had tried them once in the early days of her reign – the mountain had been so wretchedly cold – and she had warn then for a day before tearing the horrible things from her feet. Hobbit feet were not meant for footwear and who was she to argue with that well established fact? Besides, she had gotten used to the chilly and sometimes damp stone beneath her feet soon enough.

She sat straight tin her chair and fixed a look of inquiry upon her face.

"I hope your discussion was enlightening…" she addressed them both.

Thorin continued to scowl and Gandalf cleared his throat while casting an annoyed glance as the displaced monarch and then looked to her and smiled.

"Perhaps some time to think over this latest development would be best, my dear," Gandalf told her.

She nodded her head.

Thorin did look a little shocked and sometime might be the best way to avoid any further…disagreements.

"Perhaps over a meal," the Wizard quirked an eyebrow at her, a gleam of mischief in his eyes.

Azog growled at her side. Whither the noise was directed at Thorin or Gandalf she had no idea but she hoped he would keep his show of displeasure to the vocal variety. At least until they had come to some sort of agreement with Thorin.

"Very well Gandalf, I believe it is well past time for eating anyway,"

She stood from her chair.

"The Company should be outside,"

This was going to be interesting.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry for the hold up with this chapter. I write myself into a corner and it took me a wee while to untangle it all. I think I got it sorted though. :)<strong>

**Hope you enjoyed it!**


	21. To Eat or Not to Eat?

Bilbo looked upon them all with a studious eye as they were directed into the cavern.

They all looked fine. A little put out and glaring at her, some of them looking at her as if she was the dirt under their boots, but other than that they had all been fed the night before, were about to be fed again and were in one piece.

They were prodded by the guards towards the table at her instruction as more Goblins bearing stools and more torches came ambling in behind them. She felt a twinge of guilt. It was obvious that they had been waiting outside the door while she was speaking with Gandalf.

Oh well, there had been no way around it, but she felt bad for holding them back from their regular duties.

Each Dwarf had a guard at their shoulders, holding them firmly and keeping them still while the others placed the stools by the table. This done the guards forcefully seated their charges. One by one she heard elbows hit the table and groans of annoyance as it was made clear that standing would not be tolerated.

She winced at the rough treatment and wondered what the guards had been putting up with from the obviously annoyed Company of Dwarves. She caught Azog giving them a nod of approval and sighed. Honestly. Why did she even try?

"A chair for the wizard," she instructed a passing Goblin who bowed low in acknowledgment before scurrying off to fulfil her order, in doing so they nearly collided with three others who were carrying in a heavy wooden chair for her husband to use. It was placed at what passed as the 'top' of the table while the chair she had been using during the sad excuse for an audience was lifted from the steps and placed beside Azog's.

It wasn't how things were meant to be and it was frightfully bad table manners. She knew as the host and hostess – well, sort of - one of them should have been at each end of the table but Azog had been very…understanding with everything (given the circumstances) and she had no desire to test his patience by suggesting it when she already knew what his answer would be.

Things were prepared quickly and as efficiently as they ever were by her Goblins. She felt her chest swell in pride as she watched them work.

The chair was brought for Gandalf and both he and Thorin were ushered to the table and into their spaces.

The food was next to arrive.

A huge cauldron of steaming soup that smelled divine and she hoped had no nasty surprises in it – she had been instructing the cooks for years but the occasional slip did happen.

Platters of roasted root vegetables came close on the heels of the soup along with piping hot and still sizzling meat.

Finally polished wooden dishes were placed before each of the diners and Bilbo stifled a groan when she saw one of the Goblins spit happily on one of the plates, wipe it gleefully on his 'clothing' and place it in front of Thorin.

The Goblin toddled off looking very proud of himself and indeed it seemed that she was the only one who had noticed the little beasts actions, so perhaps he had every right to be a little swaggering.

Bilbo could feel her headache growing again and closed her eyes for a moment. Blessed darkness. The smouldering torches really did go for the eyes after a while.

She breathed steadily and opened her eyes again.

Thorin's plate was sitting innocently in front of him.

Was it a sign of her own moral deterioration that she couldn't even find it in herself to be angry with the mischievous creature?

Honestly, what was she going to do with them?

She moved to have someone replace the plate when Thorin looked to her with a look so venomous she felt the sting and held the hand that had been about to wave for a Goblin fixed in her lap.

Never mind.

She smiled at him and settled back in her chair. He only frowned all the more.

The Dwarves had settled down now and were casting looks at each other and their guards who stood as attention at their backs. Occasionally they glanced to her before looking away in embarrassment if she caught them.

She cleared her throat, giving them permission to look at her.

She lifted a hand and gestured to the steaming food spread put before them.

"Enjoy,"

No one moved. They sat and they stared.

They looked at the food. They looked at each other. They looked at her. They looked at Thorin.

And no one touched the food.

Bilbo sighed heavily and reached for the vegetables only to have Azog takeover for her and fill her plate with the wonderfully smelling potatoes and parsnips.

Finally Gandalf broke the staring contest and reached for the plate that Azog had replaced in the centre of the table.

She sighed in relief and dug into her food.

-To Be Continued-

**Hehe. **

**I couldn't resist getting one over on Thorin... Just a little. :)**

**Have a nice weekend everyone. **

**:)**


	22. ExplanationsOf a Sort

Thankfully there were no surprises in the food and Bilbo ate heartily of the vegetables while semi-full-bellies seemed to help the Company relax and little conversation started along the table.

Thorin she noticed was sitting with his arms folded across his chest, ignoring the food in front of him. She cast a sad look at his empty plate.

Shame. The cocky Goblin's hard work had gone to waste there it would seem.

Balin appeared to be hissing in his leader's ear from his place at his side. Trying to convince him to eat perhaps?

"I eat nothing at the same table as my grandfather's slayer!" Thorin finally snarled, proving her guess correct and jerking away from Balin so hard he knocked into Fili at his other side.

The hushed conversations stopped and everyone looked to her and then to Azog at her side, eyes wide with panic.

She calmly continued eating while Azog only grunted at her side and did the same.

Eventually, seeing no punishment would be landing on their heads with the suddenness of a rockslide thanks to their leader's loose tongue they returned to their food and subdued talk.

"**The old fool was sick with the gold madness, even in battle his eyes burned with it,**" Azog snarled at her, almost making her jump at his sudden words.

She turned to him just as he was using his two pronged arm as a fork and reaching for his ale with the other hand.

She shook her head in exasperation. She had tried time and again to stop him from doing that. Her nose crinkled in disgust at the thought of what he did with his weaponised arm. But it was no good. All she could hope was that he had given it at least a rudimentary wash before deciding to use it as a piece of cutlery.

She doubted it.

Bilbo observed her husband through narrowed eyes. If she didn't know any better for would think he was trying to explain himself to her. Something that he rarely did. He acted as he saw fit and saw no need to explain his actions to anyone. After all, he had lived long enough to have no need to explain himself to those who must be children in his eyes.

"**Gold madness?**" she hissed back at him in some confusion.

"Dw-" began Gandalf, only to be silenced by an animal like hiss from her husband. Gandalf immediately fell quiet and resumed eating without further comment.

Bilbo saw with some amusement that the Company were only eating what the wizard ate. Gandalf – the old reprobate – was amusing himself by leaving the meat till last and making the decidedly carnivorous Dwarves eat their greens if they wanted anything to eat at the moment.

Bilbo wondered who would be the first to break and go for the meat – risk of poison or no.

She considered having some meat herself but decided to let Gandalf have his fun. He would get bored of the stewed and roasted root vegetables soon enough.

Obviously they didn't trust Azog to be not immune to whatever they thought they were at risk of or they wouldn't have been holding back. Her husband had nearly demolished a quarter of the massive amount of meat that had sat on the platter.

Azog was still glaring in annoyance at Gandalf and she touched his arm gently to bring his attention back to her.

The paleness of his skin never failed to fascinate her and the darkness of her gloves made his skin nearly glow in contrast.

His eyes went to her hand and then to her face. He took a long gulp of his ale before speaking.

"**Dwarves,**" he very nearly spat the word and Bilbo rolled her eyes, sitting back in her chair and sipping at her wine. She didn't like or approve of drinking so early in the day but it was weak wine and cleaner than any water to be found in the mountain until the rain from the night before and been filtered anyway.

"**Lust for treasure. Gold, jewels…some lines feel the sickness more than others,**" he looked at Thorin as he spoke of blood lines and her eyes glanced to the Dwarf also. He was glaring at them while the others chewed happily about him on pieces of…huh, looked like Gandalf had gone for some meat or desperation had finally driven a member of the Company to rash action and the others had decided to join him.

So the royal line was more susceptible to this sickness then?

"**Dragons are drawn to vast stores of gold, that is why Smaug fell upon Erebor as he did. The fool king brought the dragon to his own door,**"

Bilbo wondered why she had never heard of this Gold Sickness, but then Dwarves were a very secretive bunch – really, it was bordering on paranoia.

"**But, they are miners,**" she thought aloud, forcing her tongue to twist around words she had very rarely had to use since learning Black Speech, "**Isn't a desire for treasure only natural to fuel their work?**"

"**Not to the exclusion of all else,**" he grumbled at her and concentrated wholly on his food once again.

The exclusion of all else?

Would Thorin fall into this sickness? What about the rest of the Company? Was she doing the right thing in encouraging and helping them to retake the mountain?

Oh, how she missed the simple life she had lived when she was just Mistress of Bag End. The most stressful thing in her life then had been if she would win the prize for best tomatoes or not.

As it stood though, whither it was right or wrong to help them get the mountain or not, the Dragon still needed to be dealt with. They were going to Erebor for that reason if nothing else.

A figure coming into the room and approaching her Captain caught her attention and she watched as the guard whispered into his ear and left the room as quietly as he had entered it.

She met her Captain's eyes as he looked to her and frowned in question.

What else could possibly go wrong? She still had to speak to the Company as a whole and had hoped that full bellies would make them more amiable to be explanation.

Her Captain approached, bowed at the waist and leaned into her ear – earning him a snarl and a rumble from Azog who tore a chunk of meat from the bone skewered on his metal limb viciously.

She kicked him under the table and the wretched man didn't even blink at the abuse.

Bilbo had no doubt she had probably just hurt herself more than she did him as pain bloomed through her bare foot.

"The Watch has news to report, Majesty," the Captain whispered into her ear.

She nodded and glanced as her still mostly full plate.

She pushed it away.

She wasn't all that hungry anyway at the moment, all of her appetite fleeing at the mention of mad Dwarves and gold hoarding dragons.

"I am sorry for abandoning you in this way," she told the table as she stood, the chair scraping along the floor, "but there are matters requiring my attention. Please finish you meal," she nodded to them and made for the door, Azog at her side, the cool air of the outer passages hitting her skin and causing goose bumps to rise on the few places where flesh showed.

"Have them shown back to their quarters once they have finished eating," she instructed her Captain, "Only once they are finished, mind," she specified.

"Yes, Majesty,"

"Very good,"

She was shepherded through the passages to the place where the Watch party was waiting.

Bilbo saw them long before they saw her and was glad to see that they were behaving themselves. She was proud of the Goblins who showed enough discipline to be in her Guard and the Watch. They took their duties seriously. She knew if the need arose all of her Goblins would show the same single-mindedness in battle but not many of them had the strength of will to do so on a daily basis.

"Attention!" shouted her Captain as they approached and all backs straightened in record time as she came to a stop before them.

None of them seemed to be injured, which was good, but didn't necessarily mean they hadn't been involved in a skirmish.

Bilbo smiled reassuring at the head of this particular band of Watchmen as he was told to step forward. He bowed awkwardly and returned to his straight position, waiting to be told to speak.

Her husband tended to frighten her Goblins and the watchmen were no different. She could tell they were trying not to, but their eyes kept straying to his tall form at her side.

She looked up to him and rolled her eyes. He was glowering at the Watch, his arms crossed over his chest.

"You have something to tell me?" she smiled and the Goblin nodded enthusiastically.

"Orc pack Majesty. They are searching the mountain,"

-To Be Continued-

**Dun dun dun. **

**Hope you liked this quick little update! Thanks again so much for all of the wonderful comments. You are all amazing. :)**


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